Someone To Catch My Tears
by Rana Ninque
Summary: When Arwen leaves, Aragorn turns to Eowyn for comfort. Then, Aragorn, Arwen, Faramir, and most especially Eowyn are forced to make choices and learn lessons about themselves. COMPLETE!
1. Part One: Aragorn

Summary: What would happen if Arwen went to the Grey Havens? Where would that leave Aragorn and Eowyn's relationship? And Faramir? Aragorn/Eowyn or Eowyn/Faramir. AU

A/N: READ ME! I categorized this under Eowyn and Faramir, but I don't really know what it's going to be. I don't know if it is E/A or E/F. I just can't have three characters. However, I suspect it will be E/F. This begins in the camp of the Rohirrim in RotK. I think I will follow parts of the movie verse, but this is AU. Also, I will include the Evenstar, as much as I hate that thing.

I finished chapter one! Yay! I am working really hard on 2, and I expect it to be up in the next week. However, it's hard to tell cause school's coming up next week.

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part One: Aragorn

I woke and suddenly knew. She was gone. Everything was gone. All hope was lost. Tears streamed down my cheeks as I questioned how this could happen. I whispered her name in my misery. Gone forever.

I had been angry with my foster father before in my life. I had even been angry with him over Arwen. But I never hated him. Never.

Now I did. I despised him for ruining my life. I needed Arwen as much as he did. She was my life. Everything I did was cloaked in thoughts of her. I swore then never to return to Elrond's, whom I thought of as my father, house. Never would I see him again. I would never speak to him again, for he had stolen what I loved. It should have been her choice. But he had stolen that from her and made it for her.

I rose from the cot that I used for a bed. It was the nicest bed I had had in a long time, for I had chosen the life of a ranger, in hopes of making myself worthy of her love. I exited my tent and glanced at my surroundings. Eomer sat nigh Gamling. I saw Eowyn storming away. No, she perhaps could understand my pain of being abandoned. She knew what it was like to live her entire life for one cause, and then to be denied it ere the end. I chased after her, knowing that she could help me. Out of the corner of my eye, I saw Eomer following me with his eyes. He did not trust me near his sister. He knew I loved her not, and I would break her heart. Perhaps he was wiser than I, sometimes. It was something I didn't deem possible, but perhaps it was. Eowyn turned at the sound of my footsteps. I had made no move to silence them for I wished to announce my presence without the use of words; I did not trust my voice. She smiled at me, in that wan way of hers, but I could see disappointment in her eyes. She had wanted her brother to come and apologize for something he had said. I knew this. But I also knew that she was fond of me and would not mind speaking to me.

"My lord, I did not know you were still awake," she said gently. Eowyn always spoke to me in that soft, frightened way. It saddened me to hear it. I was different from anyone else she had known, and I knew it.

"Nay, Milady, I failed to sleep. I wished to speak with you," I said hoarsely. I spoke as quietly as I could, so that perhaps she would not hear the tears behind my words.

But she did. She closed her eyes, and sighed. Maybe she knew what I felt. Maybe she knew what I needed to be understood. Maybe she thought it was something else. I don't know, but she paused, and then said, "Come, milord. You may speak to me in my tent."

I hesitated, ere following her through the tent flap. Who was there to care whether this was appropriate? I needed help, and I only trusted Eowyn enough to understand.

Eowyn gestured for me to sit down on one of the two chairs that were placed at the small table. She took the other. She raised her eyebrows and waited for me to begin. Suddenly, I felt like we were playing psychologist and patient. Never before had I been the patient, and it was an uncomfortable experience.

My eyes begged her to begin somehow, and make all of this easier on me. She lowered her gaze to the wood grain of her little table, and sighed again.

"She's gone, isn't she? Your love. You are playing with her gem, and your eyes spell your agony. I know how you feel. Love never follows through with its promises. It whispers the sweet oaths in your ear at night, in the hardest times of your life, but then, just when you are finally ready for the promises to be fulfilled, it flees like the wind, laughing in your face, just out of your reach; mocking you. You want to scream, cry, rip something to shreds, but you can't. You blame whatever you can for your misfortune and misery. Your father, your brother, whatever you have that at one time held you back, for good or bad. And you blame the person himself…herself for having left you torn and shredded as she did." The entire time she spoke, Eowyn had kept her eyes upon the rough wood, never straying. I wondered, I could not help but wondering, if her heart was as steadfast to me as her eyes were to that table.

Then I realized she had ceased to speak. I had heard every word, and knew she was right. Indeed, I found I was fiddling with the Evenstar. And, aye, I did blame Elrond for this, though I still thought that it was his fault, even more than Arwen's. But it was also true that Arwen could not have gone. She could have defied her father. She was a grown woman. She did not have to obey him if she felt strongly enough about me.

Then it came to me. The whole time that Eowyn had spoken, she had been telling me how she felt about me. I had done the same thing to her that Arwen did now to me. Well, not exactly the same, I never held her under any delusions that I felt for her the way she felt for me, but it was in general the same. She felt the same way I did.

"She left you alone when all you wanted was someone to catch your tears for you," Eowyn murmured. It was so quiet, that I wondered if perhaps I wasn't even supposed to hear it. But hear it I did. I heard the pain laced through the words. I heard the resentment. I heard the pleas. I heard the reason why Eowyn loved me. I heard the reason why I loved Arwen, at the same time as hearing the reason that Arwen never understood me. She did not need me for comfort. I never really knew why she needed me. Elves keep their grief inside and never let it out for any others to see. They hide it under their merry songs, and their songs are the one place where one might even begin to see their sorrow, if he knows where to look. Sometimes I saw it. But I was never able to do anything about it, for Elves don't take comfort like mortals. Arwen knew this, and I knew this. We understood our differences, and loved each other nonetheless. But, now I see that perhaps Arwen realized that I, a mere ranger, could never fulfill her needs, for I could not eve begin to understand them. She saw that I would never be King, and that I would die ere the end of this war. She saw that she would be left alone, and she decided instead to leave me alone.

I glanced over at Eowyn and saw that she was still staring at the table. I wondered if she had looked anywhere else this entire time. I saw her eyes flicker and knew my answer. She had been watching me.

"Eowyn?"

She glanced up in response. Like me, Eowyn did not take to using words when she did not have to, which was a rather rare occasion for her.

I paused. I did not know what I was going to say, for I didn't know what to say. She had expressed my every pain, and my every lack. She probably knew what I was thinking right now.

"I must leave, I would like to talk to you on the morn, if it would not be too much trouble for you."

She smiled me her response. I smiled mine back.

I departed from her tent, and strode quickly towards my own. I saw Eomer coming to speak with me, but I reached my tent ere he reached me. I'm not called "Strider" for nothing.

"Lord Aragorn?" Eomer called from outside. I didn't answer as I removed my tunic and boots. As I bent to unlace my boots, the Evenstar fell forth and glittered even now, without any extra light. Arwen, how I loved her. No, I decided to remove it forever, never think of her again. Perhaps I could find a new love. Someone to replace the light of the twilight. Sunshine, perhaps. Only sunshine can replace the light of twilight, for darkness would be too alike to it. Who held the light of sunshine about her? I did not know.

The next morn, I arose early, for I had failed to sleep the entire night. My headache was so great that I pondered for a moment as to whether I actually should visit Eowyn. My condition made me dizzy, and Iluvatar only knew what I might do in such a state. I felt drunk. Arwen told me once that I always embarrassed myself when I wasn't thinking clearly.

Of course, Arwen also told me that she loved me.

That decided it of course, I was going to go to Eowyn. Again, I needed someone to cure my pain, and obviously Eowyn knew how I felt.

I hesitated, recalling the words she had spoken the night before. She told me that love mocked her. It had laughed in her face; eluding her like wind. She said that she blamed everyone who had ever held her back; she said that she blamed me. She blamed me for something I could not control.

Yet, I had as much control over how I handled the situation as perhaps Arwen did. I followed my heart. Perhaps Arwen did the same. She saw things in a different light. It hurt me to hurt Eowyn, and perhaps Arwen felt the same. I felt that Eowyn could never be what I wanted her to be, and perhaps I wasn't what Arwen wanted, needed, me to be.

I groaned and rolled off of the pallet. I yanked a tunic over my head and laced it up, and then bent to pull on my boots. The night before, I hadn't bothered to put on my boots. I had gone as a hobbit would, in my bare feet.

I sighed and ceased my lacing, for thinking of hobbits had led my mind to other things. Frodo. Where was he? Was Sam with him as we thought he was? Eru I hoped so. Pippin? How did he fare? Was he still with Gandalf? How was Gandalf? I hoped that my old friend had not gotten into more mischief. Really, Gandalf and Pippin was a dangerous pair, for Pippin was rather dull-witted sometimes, and Gandalf could be more naughty than every child in Middle-Earth mixed together.

"You wished to meet with me again, milord?" Eowyn's voice drew me gently from my reverie.

I smiled at her my greetings; she returned the gesture.

"Please, milady, sit down. You are welcome here," I said.

She smiled and sat next to me on my bed. "You were thinking of her again, were you not? You were fingering it again, you still are."

I looked down at my hands, and saw that indeed I was rubbing the Evenstar between my thumb and forfinger. I smiled and said, "Nay, I was thinking of my companions. I thought naught of Arwen." I bent my neck and brought my fingers up, searching for the clasp. Eowyn moved behind me, realizing my intention, and reached to help me; I let her.

"Ah, so that is her name. 'Tis a fair name. She is not a woman," She commented as she removed the Evenstar from its place around my neck. I sighed as I took it from her, refusing to look down at it.

"Aye. She is an Elf. The fairest of all Elves yet living. She is likened to Luthien Tinuviel, notorious for her loveliness." I sigh again as I almost slip into a dream, remembering how I had called out to her, "Tinuviel, Tinuviel!" and her sweet voice rung in my ears, replying, "Why do you call me by that name?" But I wouldn't. I refused to let myself become lost in hearing her voice, if only through a memory.

I set the Evenstar on the little table beside my bed, dragging my eyes away from it. I would not look at it. That life was over. I turned back to Eowyn.

"Eowyn, you said last night…"

She blushed and interrupted me. "Heed naught what I said last night. I was tired and ill. I am sorry."

Concern and my healing instincts flared up within me, but I hushed them, and told myself that if Eowyn were truly ill, she would tell someone. It was probably due to too much stress or something. Besides, she looked well enough now. She wouldn't risk becoming ill just ere war, for she would want to be well enough to fight.

"Nay, Eowyn, what you said truly matched my heart. Only, I wished to ask: have you ever had someone to catch your tears?"

She turned away from me and said, "When they weren't busy my uncle and brother were there for me, but too often they didn't see what I saw. A snake haunted me. as he climbed the ladder towards the king's high advisor, I was powerless to fight him. My cousin, Theodred, saw more than anyone else. He saw Grima attempting to advance upon me. He even comforted me as much as he could. He taught me what he could of love, but Grima knew that he saw him. He knew what he saw, and what he did not see, what he could not see. He also knew me better than I would have liked. He knew that I would never call for the aid of a loved one, that I would never called him from his duty. He knew how far his power over me extended. So he sent Theodred away. I could not bring him back, I hardly saw him after that. Eomer also was sent away, and I was left with my uncle. Grima thrust Theoden under his sway, and I was lost. I had no one to protect me from Grima. No one to, as you asked, catch my tears."

I swallowed my anger. This was the man I had commanded Theoden to spare. I had thought myself noble and forgiving at the time, but now I saw myself as a fool who had failed a friend. Was Eowyn just a friend? A friend who was potentially more than a friend.

"Eowyn…"

She turned to me, her eyes alight with tears. I wondered if mine resembled hers. She looked so beautiful. Her hair tumbling around her face, I realized what a hurry she had been in to reach me, for she had not even bound her hair in any way. Her lip trembled at the effort to keep her tears inside. She didn't have to. I was here. I would hold her while she cried. I realized then that perhaps, just as I was wrong for Arwen, Arwen was wrong for me. I loved her, yes, and I knew she loved me. But Eowyn loved me too, and I wondered if perhaps I could love her. It would be different, certainly, from loving Arwen, for Arwen did not see the world the same way men did. She saw it through an Elf's eyes. She did not worry as much as we did about a war. To us, it was fatal, to her, it was just another skirmish that would pass someday, and scar one more tree. Eowyn knew my fears of things, for she lived them too.

Without being fully aware of what I was doing, I leaned over towards Eowyn and kissed her. She hesitated, and then gently pulled away.

"Aragorn, you know not what you do. Let this rest. You will come to peace with it soon, and things will be clearer to you then."

"Nay, Eowyn. I know what I am doing. I love Arwen, yes. I fear I always will. However, I can still give you undivided love, for the love I give to Arwen has been given, and rejected. It will always burn in a tiny part of my heart, never to be reopened. You are of the same mortality as I, and you value many of the same things. Arwen drifts, she does not value days or minutes during which things could be done. She values centuries during which things could be learned. We are of the same race, and we know what we both want. Eowyn, I ask you now, should we both survive this war, will you marry me?"

She hesitated, and I wondered which answer I wish for. I decided that I knew, I wanted to marry Eowyn, for I could be happy with her.

"Aragorn, I shall not give you a yes, or a no, for I wish for this to settle for both of us first. I shall give you an answer ere we break camp. Until then, Aragorn, think and decide if this is what you really want. I shall understand if you change your mind for many act out of desperation and pain in a situation such as this."

I nodded.

With her hands, she swept all of her long golden hair back out of her way and then rose and made to leave. Just as she was stepping out of the tent, I stopped her.

"Eowyn, both you and I can do something for each other that neither of our previous lover's could do, Theodred, because he was taken from you, and Arwen because she did not understand the pain of men. When we cry, we can catch each other's tears."


	2. Part Two: Eowyn

I updated for you all! I'm glad to have this up so soon. All dialogue in the exchange between Eowyn and the Witch King is Tolkien's work. I think you can tell that. As hard as I try, I don't have his talent.

EllowynTinuviel: Thanks for you love and support. It really means a lot to me. You've read all of my F/E stories but one, yay! (hint, hint). I really do think this will be F/E, I just didn't want to promise anything to anyone. After I found out that Aragorn asked Eowyn to marry him, I just started thinking about all of that Faramir angst (sigh.) You and I are some of the few people who can say "Faramir angst" and be excited (and I know you can, you put way too much in GHS, well no you don't, but you sure put a lot in.) Speaking of which, UPDATE!

Tari Faelivrin: Of course I'm back, I would never leave you guys! Thanks for reviewing!

This chapter is dedicated to EllowynTinuviel who was not only my first reviewer, but she's also a very faithful reader of my works and I of hers. Thank you!

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Two: Eowyn

I watched as he mounted his steed, the one his lover gave him, Roheryn. I swallowed my tears. I was hurt that he was leaving me so soon. I had to force myself to believe it. Out of the corner of my eye, I noticed Legolas setting Gimli up on the borrowed horse. So, they were allowed to ride with him, and I was not.

"Aragorn!" I cried out, unable to retain myself any longer. He turned to me, and rode over to me, his face sad. He dismounted and stood in front of me once more, and we spoke softly, so that no one else would hear. Not that it mattered, everyone else knew or guessed our situation.

"Eowyn, hush. You know I must leave you. If I had my choice, Legolas and Gimli would stay behind as well. However, we are tied together with the bonds of fellowship. I cannot force them to separate themselves from me. Only fate can do that."

Tears welled in my eyes as I said, "We are bound together too." I wondered if he thought I sounded like a small child, but I did not care. I would not allow him to take such a dangerous course without me.

He nodded and said, "Eowyn, I will come out of this alive. I need you to come out of this alive too. Gondor needs its queen, and I need you. Please, do not put your life in danger without need."

"This is important! You need me, you said so yourself! I will ride with you. Please, Aragorn, do not leave me, don't leave me like Theodred did." I cheated when I said that. I knew how sensitive that subject was for him. He still mourned Arwen, and the thought of Theodred returned thoughts of her to him. It also reminded him of what he had said to me that morning when he had asked me to marry him. He would be there for me, in the same way Theodred had not been able to. He understood how I felt and he would help me; he would let me help him; we would be there for each other and never cease to comfort each other, no matter what.

He looked away from me, and I thought I had won. Ever since we first met it had been a struggle for me to gain dominance over him. I knew I couldn't, ever, but I wanted to. I wanted him to respect me. I wanted to be, what could be called the "top dog." I thought then that maybe I had done it finally.

"Eowyn. Bring no one else into this. I love you, but I will not have you go with me. I will now ask you not to bring Theodred or Arwen up again," he said, and then he turned and walked away.

Anger flooded my veins. It wasn't fair. I knew why Gimli and Legolas were allowed to go and I was not. It had nothing to do with bonds. I was bound more tightly to him than anyone. I was his betrothed. He had let Pippin and Gandalf go, he was leaving Merry behind now. He could separate from these friends of his. Merry and I were not allowed to go because we weren't good enough. Merry was too young and I was a woman. I was held back simply because I was born with breasts.

I did then what I knew I should never have done. I grapped him by the arm and yanked him around to face me. I pulled open his hand and shoved that beautiful, rather extravagant necklace that he had always worn before she left him, or whatever she did. I never heard just what happened to the Lady Arwen, but I guessed. She must have gone to the Grey Havens, the place where all Elves go eventually. Now I forced him to hold it. I saw him go pale just feeling it in his hand again. I had taken it for him, so that he would not have to keep up with it. I knew that he would need it again someday, so I refused to let him destroy it.

"I can't stand you, Aragorn," I snapped. Then I spun around and left him, standing there, with that…Evenstar, he called it, that Evenstar in his hand. I went to my tent and cried, as much as I didn't want to; I could to restrain myself; I had to cry.

It was a whole eight hours later when I came back out. Aragorn was gone.

I went back to the place we had stood, where we talked shared our last words. I looked down the path, and wondered if I should follow, despite his orders. But that would be futile. He was long ahead, having the benefit of both a horse and eight hours, neither of which I could use if I were to follow him. Instead, I resolved to ride to battle with my uncle and my brother, even though I was not allowed to do that either. I would have rather be with my betrothed, but there was a lot better chance that Aragorn could send me back than my uncle. Theoden didn't even have to know I was there.

I turned my head back to the fire, and I saw Merry. He would not be allowed to go either. I would take him with me. I would cover him with my cloak. I would be Dernhelm: Helm of Secrecy.

I looked back at the ground around me, imagining Aragorn standing there. It was dark now, but I still saw something glittering in the grass off to the side. I moved to examine it.

It was that Evenstar, glittering without any light to sustain it. It was a truly amazing, what was it? Not a jewel, though there were jewels on it; it was wrought in the shape of a flower. A flower it was. A silver, bejeweled flower that was given to Aragorn by the fairest elf maiden in all of Middle-Earth. Impressive. I must say that nobody important gave me any flower necklaces, or anything for that matter. Well, except Aragorn giving me his word of marriage, but what does that mean? Besides, every time we attempt to talk about it, our conversation is speckled with "if we survive," "Maybe after the war," and "If, for some reason, I should die…." We had spent the last four days together, almost happy, and almost sad. Neither of us knew quite what to feel, or quite what to say. What, exactly, was our relationship, and who could say? If neither of us knew, who did?

I bent and picked it up. The star, the flower, the gem, whatever it was, I picked it up and slipped it into my pocket. He would not forget this. He would not hide from his past, just as I would not allow him to hide from his future. If Aragorn considered backing out of taking the throne, especially now that the maiden for whom he was doing it was gone, I wouldn't let him. Never in my life would I dream of letting him. I would drag him to that throne personally and force him to take it. We needed a strong leader more than almost anything, and Aragorn was a strong leader. Men all around would hearken to his call. He could lead anyone and everyone at a moment's notice. I loved him for his sense of safety.

Sometimes I wondered if maybe I didn't want to win every time we fought for control over the relationship. Maybe that is why Aragorn always won. Maybe I wanted someone to keep me safe; I didn't want to make all of the decisions for good or for bad. I had been forced to decide for myself so many times that maybe I wanted to have a break. I wanted to be safe from the struggle. I wanted someone else to help me sometimes.

But I didn't want Aragorn to be in control of my life. It would be another cage. Wormtongue had been in control, and I despised him for that. I would not give the same task to Aragorn, and I would not take it again. Frankly, I didn't know what I wanted. I just wanted to be free. I didn't want to have to fight for my respect and freedom. I wanted to receive it without struggle, like Aragorn, my uncle, my brother, and Theodred did. I wanted so much to be as respected as they, but I knew it was impossible.

I turned from the mountain where I knew Aragorn was, and walked back to my tent. I wondered what he was thinking. I wondered if he was thinking of me, if he was regretting treating me as he did. If he had any sense, he would be.

I sat on my cot, staring at the chair in which Aragorn had sat that night. That strange night five nights ago. He came in here for comfort, his lover had left him. I spoke to him freely, expressing my feelings, I regretted that now, and he had heard what I was truly saying. Rather than hearing what I said, which was merely explaining what had happened to him, since he did not wish to say it; he heard what I did not say, which was that I felt this same way for him. I rather gave it away with some of the things I said, and my face almost certainly played into it, but I did not truly expect him to see. I thought he was so wrapped up in thinking about his lover that he couldn't possibly see what I was thinking.

However, the next morning I knew that I had made a mistake. He probably knew. I had to ensure that he did not.

I waited for many hours for him to come to my tent as he promised, then I finally rose and went to his, without even bothering to do anything else.

He was sitting there, playing with that thing, that Evenstar, lost in thought when I came in. In all appearances, he had been preparing to go to my tent when he was distracted. His boots were half laced, and he had forgotten to lace up part of his tunic, the brown one that he always wore over that red shirt. I caught his attention, and sat down beside him. We spoke together, and he tried to take the Evenstar off. I moved to help him. He would not look at the thing when I put it in his hand. Then he did what I had been praying he would not do. He asked me about the night before. I dismissed the question, but he persisted. Then, before I knew it, I had poured my whole life out to him.

Then he kissed me.

I truly didn't know what to do, but I knew that it wasn't right. I wouldn't get myself trapped in a relationship in which I was merely a replacement. But when I told him this, he asked me to marry him. Again, I didn't accept, for I was afraid that he did not truly feel that way about me, but then he said those words, "We can catch each other's tears," and I could not stop myself. I had drowned myself in this relationship ere I even knew what I was doing.

Did I regret it? No, I loved Aragorn with all my heart. He was my life, the center of my world. I depended on him; though I couldn't say that he depended on me, I knew he did at that time in our lives. I was like the medicine that cured a wound to him; I didn't realize that it was not what I truly wanted.

No, I did, I just thought that maybe he would change, we would change. Things would get better. He would love me for who I was. I wouldn't just be a numbing medicine, I would be his true love. What he dreamt of at night, what he thought about throughout the day as he worked, what he cherished when we were together. That was the life for which I hoped, and that was what I would receive, I was sure.

But he didn't cherish me now, for he had abandoned me. He left, just as Eomer had, just as Theodred had, just as everyone I loved had. Except, in all of those cases, they had no choice; duty called. Aragorn had a choice. I am a grown person, and I can help. I was not part of my Theodred's eored when he left me, but I could be part of Aragorn's circle. There was nothing keeping us apart save for the fetters he put on me. But what weak fetters they are! How could something so weak and meaningless be so strong and binding? Because Aragorn was the one who chained me, and I do not wish to go against him.

"Eowyn?" My brother's voice drifted through the tent flap.

"Enter."

Eomer lifted the tent flap and bent to walk into the tent. He was so tall. Taller than Aragorn even, and Aragorn was one of the tallest people I knew. In fact, if it weren't for that hat of his, Aragorn would dwarf even Gandalf. Yet, Eomer was slightly taller than Aragorn, just slightly.

"Yes dear brother?" I asked, noting the concern on his face.

"Eowyn," he paused, and then continued. "I worry for you. I do not wish you to suffer, as you do. Are you sure you know what you are doing?"

I turned from my beloved brother who had always tried to be there for me but could not be. I looked at that little table, how interesting I had been finding it in the past five days!

"Eomer, when one is alone, one must do something. This is what I must do."

"But Eowyn, are you sure that Aragorn, I mean, what does he mean to you?"

I sighed. Good question. There were so many answers. "How can I answer that, Eomer? He is a refuge from the dark, he knows what I am feeling, for he has felt it too. He will lift me up and carry me away from the misery that lurks in my shadow. I shall not fear any longer when he returns for me."

"When he returns? Eowyn, the man has abandoned you! I do not expect him to take you with him, for it is very dangerous, but I would expect him to be more considerate than he was! When will he return, Eowyn? When he is King? What will that make you, Queen? Eowyn, my dear beloved Eowyn, is this truly what you want? To be Queen, and nothing more? To him, you shall not even be his wife, you will merely be Eowyn, Queen of Gondor. Your name shall be forgotten, and all that will be left will be 'Aragorn's wife' murmured through the crowds. For Queens cannot live on. They cannot do anything more than sit upon the throne and support their husbands. Is this the fate you wish?"

His words frightened me. I could not face them. What if he was right? What would I do then? It was not exactly allowed for the Queen of Gondor to run away if she finds out that she doesn't like it there. Perhaps Eomer was right…

But I could not face that truth. I needed to hold on to Aragorn, and I could not let go now. Eomer was just being over protective. I knew that. He was worried that Aragorn would not make me happy, but he did not understand that Aragorn had been all I had wanted for my entire life. Aragorn. My love. My life.

"Eomer, stop it. You have no right to speak thus. Leave, ere I make you."

My brother just smiled sadly and said, "I'm afraid you already have." And then he was gone.

I regretted my words instantly. I battled my pride to run out and speak to him again, to apologize, but I was afraid that he might say those things again, or more things, or worse things, so I could not.

Many hours passed ere I slept. It was nearly the second watch of morning when I finally drifted off. Sleep claimed me for two hours, and in those two hours nightmares haunted me too. I woke finally, and without thinking reached for my robe. I crossed the sleeping camp barefooted, and reached my brother's tent after what seemed like an eternity. I did not call out, for I knew that he would be sleeping. Instead, I slipped into his tent, and snuggled in beside him. I was asleep again almost instantly.

When I woke, Eomer was already awake, looking down at me while tugging on his boots.

"Sleep well?" he asked. Apparently, he was planning on forgetting what had happened last night, which was what I wanted, I just didn't know if that was what should be done.

I nodded in response. Eomer was used to my nods and smiles, I didn't like to speak when I did not have to for I did not trust my own voice.

"Eowyn, I wanted to confront you about something. I was going to speak of it last night, but then I forgot." Good, he was not going to blame me as he ought to.

"I know you do not wish to stay behind, but I ask you to please not ride into battle with the men. Please stay with the people and protect them, 'tis an honorable deed itself. Please, Eowyn, I could not see you hurt."

I smiled. I truly didn't trust my voice now, for I feared it would betray my true intentions to my brother, who knew me so well, but I spoke nonetheless. "Worry not, dear brother. I shall be safe." There, I had not told him that I would not ride, merely that I would not be hurt.

He smiled. I thought that perhaps he saw my scheme, but he did not mention it. Then he rose and left his own tent.

I pulled my own robe on and crossed to my own tent where I dressed and prepared for the day. Today was important, for today I prepared to ride with the men.

Two days later, I rode alongside the men. I saw Merry standing there, forlorn. As I had thought, he had not been allowed to ride to war. So I picked him up and muttered in his ear, "Ride with me."

I would not fear. I forbid myself to consider fear. I forced myself to thing of the task at hand, rather than what it could mean for me. I searched the ranks for Aragorn, but I knew he had not yet arrived. I could feel him coming though. He had made it through the Paths of the Dead and now he was coming, despite what everyone else said. "Deserter," they called him. "Coward," "Fake." I would not sit and listen to these men bash my betrothed in such a way. He had done nothing save help these men. He had dared to take a path more dangerous than any of these men would dream of taking. It was not fair to Aragorn that they spoke in such ways of him. He did not desert them, he was going to save them. That much I knew. I knew it in my heart, for I could feel Aragorn coming. Here, on the eve of battle, I knew that he was nearing. We sat and waited. Thanks to the Wild Men, we knew where to go. Theoden had his battle strategies decided. We could only wait.

The next day we fought. We fought for everything we held dear. I kept one eye on Merry and one eye on my brother, and somehow I managed to keep an eye on myself as well. There were so many Orcs, and it pained me to know that we came here to Gondor's aid just as they did not come to ours. But I also knew that we were coming to Aragorn, Legolas, and Gimli's aid, for they would have gone to Gondor no matter. As we fought, I wondered where that steward was, the one who had been so desperate for our aid, yet did not deem it necessary to head our need. I hated him more than anything, and I was glad that Aragorn was going to take his power away soon. If I were Aragorn, that would be enough for me. I would do anything if it meant usurping Denethor.

I shouldn't have been thinking such treacherous thoughts, but I was. I couldn't help it; when I fight, I get angry. Then I start getting angry at anything that has ever happened to me, and stay angry throughout the battle.

But then the Nazgul came; I found something else about which I could be angry. My uncle, my beloved uncle, lay there beneath his horse, faithful Snowmane, and the Witch King of Angmar advanced on him. Fury rose within me, no time was left for thoughts of Aragorn or anyone else. I charged before the Witch King and said, "Begone, foul dwimmerlaik, lord of carrion! Leave the dead in peace!"

I forced my mind to be free of fear as the being answered "Come not between the Nazgul and his prey! Or he will not slay thee in they turn. He will bear thee away to the houses of lamentation, beyond all darkness, where they flesh shall be devoured, and they shriveled mind be left naked to the Lidless Eye." I drew my sword. I would not let the horrors of which he spoke come to pass.

"Do what you will; but I will hinder it, if I may," I said fearlessly. I noticed Merry laying behind the beast, and I wondered again, just what was the hobbit's place in this world?

"Hinder me? Thou fool. No living man may hinder me!" it cried. Now I knew was the time to reveal my true presence. If I could force the thing for fear me…

I laughed. "But no living man am I! You look upon a woman. Eowyn, I am, Eomund's daughter. You stand between me and my lord and kin. Begond, if you be not deathless! For living or dark undead, I will smite you, if you touch him."

And indeed, it did not answer, I sensed the possibility of fear in that dark mind. Yet, even as the Witch King gave no answer, its winged beast shrieked in fear. I had won, I knew that much. Now all I had to do was kill the thing.

Behind the thing, I noticed movement. _Merry. _I knew. But Merry could not kill this thing. Only I could. Merry knew not what strength it would take.

The beast that this thing rode sensed my distraction, and made a leap for me, yet it realized not that I was ready for it. I swiftly relieved the thing of its head, and the Nazgul king of his mount.

But he lived still. And he became even more angry. I had heard that a fair elf maid had destroyed the nine of their horses, the beasts the Nazgul rode ere these winged monsters, and now I too had destroyed a mount. I wondered briefly if the Elf maid had been any other than Arwen, but I dismissed the thought. I had not time to think upon such things, for the thing swung his mace at my arm. Thank Eru it was not my sword arm, for then all would be lost, but the pain in my left arm overwhelmed me. I knew it was broken, and I collapsed on the ground.

_So this is how it must end,_ I thought lamenting. I had broken my promise to my brother. I had sworn to him that I would be safe, and I had failed.

But I had forgotten about a key to my success, for just after I fell to my knees, prepared for death, I was saved. He collapsed nigh me, and behind him stood Merry, crying my name. And then I gathered my strength, for I knew that this was my last chance to win this battle. I would not pass unremembered. I would slay this mighty being. And I rose and thrust my sword into his face. My beloved sword splintered, but for a good cause. For that was the end of the Witch King of Angmar. And that was the last I knew.


	3. Part Three: Aragorn

So sorry it's been so long. I had a LOT of trouble with this chapter. That is aside from the fact that school started this week. YIKES!

EllowynTinuviel: Frankly, I still don't get why you didn't read "To Understand." However, it doesn't matter. THANK YOU!

Sam: Thank you. Love your name. As for Eomer, I just always imagined him particularly tall, riding a giant horse and all that. After that, I read on a website that he's supposed to be six feet or taller.

Vor Tirla Laime: I agree in every way. A/E is awesome, but Faramir's just better. Thanks for putting me on your favorites!

Telhyandowen: I've been waiting for your review! Thank you so much. I hope you keep reading. I really like what she said too. I was really surprised by that when it came out. Oh, and about Eomer, yeah, I adore him. He's one of my favorites (if you want more, I'm going to post an E/L story soon). PLEASE WRITE SOMETHING!

Thank you to everyone who read this story and did not review. As much as I wish you would review, I know what it's like. I don't review as much as I'd like. THANK YOU!

Someone to Catch My Tears

Part Three: Aragorn

I searched the dead for familiar faces, and I was not sure if it was a good thing or a bad thing when I saw how few I knew. As a ranger, friends were hard to come by, and I had fewer than most. Sometimes I missed the company; it was why I relished in taking those hobbits, however annoying they were sometimes, to Rivendell. It was why I didn't let Frodo die when he could have. Well, the fact that he was the ringbearer also played into it; if it had been Pippin, I don't know what I would have done. Also, Frodo was the calmest of the four. Sometimes Pippin became unbearable. However, on the good side of things, having few friends meant having few lives about which to fret.

I was startled from my search when I heard Eomer crying out; my heart broke. I spotted Theoden's stallion, and I knew that the king was dead underneath the horse. But I was surprised when Eomer did not drag his uncle out from underneath the horse, instead, he cradled someone else in his arms.

Suddenly, I was numb. There were two people in Eomer's life whom he would love like this. I saw Theoden then, crushed beneath Snowmane, and I knew who the first person must be.

My mind screamed a thousand thoughts at once, but I only heard one of them. Why? Why her? Why did she have to be taken from me so soon? Why did she have to ride to battle, and why did she have to die? I remembered those few sweet days of comfort. We became inseparable. She accepted my offer immediately, and from that point on we decided to spend what little time together. I could feel how much she loved me. I almost even forgot about Arwen. Eowyn was such a relief from the spell, and I felt so strongly for her. Arwen became part of my past; she was no longer part of my present. Only Eowyn was. We played these games; we would see how much we could get away with, right under Eomer's and Theoden's noses. Such joy: a joy I had not known for such a long time.

I numbly made my way through the dead and wounded bodies, and finally reached Eowyn. My dear, beloved Eowyn. How could she leave me?

Why?

Eomer looked up at me, tears making lines all over his face, and more still coming. I realized I had voiced my question aloud, rather than in my head as I had thought.

"Why did she have to die?" I asked.

Eomer just shook his head and looked back down at his sister. What right does he have to hold her like that? I wondered. I should be the one holding her, weeping over her. Instead, it was that brother of hers. It was probably his fault that she rode to battle in the first place. If he had let her go…

I realized that my thoughts were no longer making sense.

_You blame whatever you can for your misfortune and misery._

Eowyn's words came back to me, haunting me. Would I ever be free from the spell that she too had placed on me? I didn't know. Yet, I found it somewhat odd that I felt as though I could never be free from Eowyn, yet I had been just as devastated over Arwen. How quickly I had dealt with my loss of Arwen. Would the same stand true about Eowyn? Could I ever find someone to love for my entire life? Was it wrong to love a woman for sixty-eight years and then, as soon as she was gone from my life fall for someone else? It sounded wrong, yet I felt so happy with Eowyn. Everything was so nice with her.

I looked around me and noticed one of the Nagul beasts lay there, slain. I moved to examine it, and the empty cloak that lay with it, and I saw that it was none other than the Witch King himself who had been slain. I glanced over at Eowyn, in her brother's arms, and then back at the Witch King's cloak. Then I bent and examined the shattered shield that lay there as well. It was Eowyn's. And then, too, I saw a sword, bent and shattered. I fingered it, and realized that it, too was Eowyn's. I glanced back at her, and realized that she, Eowyn of Rohan, future Queen of Gondor, had slain the Witch King and his foul beast.

I bent down and touched the younger man's shoulder. He looked up at me, and I searched his face I often did. He understood my message without words, and nodded. Together, though I was sure that either of us could have done it without the other; I suppose that we just both wanted to do the job; we lifted Eowyn up above the people, and carried her into the city. Behind us, people carried the king in as well.

As I entered the city, I thought about what a shame it was that Eowyn had not lived to see this magnificent city. It was lovely. Giant stone pillars and arches graced the causeway, as we went up into the citadel itself. This would have been Eowyn's kingdom, had she lived. She would have been Queen of all of Gondor. I wondered if she thought of this as she rode through Gondor.

She would have made a great Queen of this city. It suited her well. It was white, just like her, and it was complex yet very simple. It was a true jewel, as they said. I wondered about the name though. I had thought that perhaps when I became King I would change it back to Minas Anor, for the war would be over by then. But would these people want to change their name? This city had guarded so many people, almost all of Middle-Earth, so what would the people's reactions be?

But it was not the time for that. I had to see to Eowyn's corpse. I shuddered to think of her body in such a way.

We finally reached the citadel. So many people were there, dead. I saw a man, his armor glittering in the sunlight that streamed in through a window. He was walking through the citadel with his head bowed, mourning for each of the men who fell.

We lay Eowyn down upon one cot, and then left to see to other men. Eomer sobbed over his sister and his uncle, as well as the other people he had lost. I simply went on with my duties, only realizing much later that I, too, had been crying.

As I entered the citadel, carrying some man I did not know, I spotted the man in the shining mail looking down upon Eowyn. Of course she would attract attention. She was the only woman who had fought in the battle. Besides, she had slain the Witch King, of course he did not know that; she would attract attention being man or woman, or even hobbit. Which made me realize that I had not yet seen Pippin. Surely he had not died. I thought of the look on poor Merry's face when he learned of his friend's death. Of course, it was doubtful that Merry would ever know. He would likely die in Rohan, when the Shadow came.

Suddenly, I sensed someone approaching me from behind. I spun around, my hand on the hilt of my sword.

The man behind me raised his hands in peace, and I realized that he was the man who had been mourning these people.

"Please, Milord, I mean no ill. I only wish to say that I noticed you carrying in the lady yonder. Perhaps 'twould ease your heart to know that you made a mistake. The lady is not dead, but she is in urgent need of healing. Take her to the Houses of Healing. There she will be well."

I did as he said. But my heart would not calm down. Eowyn was alive! Yet I feared she would not find the healing she needed at the Houses. She had the Black Breath upon her, and I doubted the ability of the healers. So, dressed in a cloak, I followed Gandalf to the Houses of Healing where he spoke to the man to whom I had spoken earlier, whom I had learned was none other than Prince Imrahil of Dol Amroth, and Eomer about Eowyn and the Steward of Gondor. Surprise shook me when I learned that Denethor was dead, and I was not sure whether to be relieved or sad. I had known him when I worked for his father, and I had found him to be an envious and suspicious soul. He knew who I was. He never betrayed me to his father, for which I was grateful, but I sensed that his reasons were more selfish than helpful. Instead, his son, not Boromir of course, but a different one, about which I had heard little, was now the Steward. But he, too, was wounded terribly. Then Imrahil asked after me, and I decided the time was right. I revealed myself, and urged them to use my true identity, and instead heed me as the Captain of the Dunedain.

Finally, we entered the Houses. I was eager to get to Eowyn, but ere I could reach her I came across the hobbit I had also been eager to see. There stood Pippin, all dressed up in the livery of the citadel, as though he was playing a game. We spoke briefly together, and then Gandalf lead me to Lord Faramir, to my disappointment. I wanted to see Eowyn again, to have her open her eyes and seem me, smile at me and tell me I was forgiven. But first I had to go to Faramir.

When I saw him, I was surprised. He resembled both his brother and his father in appearance, but as I studied him, I found him to resemble his mother much more strongly in some unnoticed way. I turned from the man and asked for athelas. Which seemed to be to be one of the few herbs they did not have. So I had to do with sitting there, calling Faramir back from Death as I awaited the athelas. Finally, a young boy raced into the room, babbling about the freshness of the herb. I could care less about the freshness, so long as I had some. But when I saw the boy's face when he looked upon Faramir, I pitied him. Perhaps the boy was the son of Faramir, though he did not resemble him. Perhaps he merely loved him as I had learned many had. Finally I was able to crush the herb in my hand and put it into the bowls of water. Again I called for Faramir in his mind, and this time he replied. He opened his eyes and looked upon me. He looked deep inside of me I felt. Yes, the boy had his mother's eyes with his father's keenness. His eyes were so expressive; I saw the wonder stirring in them, and the admiration. For whom? I wondered. Then the answer came back to me. For me. He admired me.

"_My lord, you called me. I come. What does the king command?"_ he asked. I was startled in my mind, for he had read me more shrewdly than any ere had. But I kept my surprise from my face and answered, "_Walk no more in shadows, but awake! You are weary. Rest a while, and take food, and be ready when I return."_

He answered, but I did not hear him. Instead of replying to him, I said my apologies for leaving so soon, I think, I do not remember quite what I said, and left, knowing that Eowyn was next. O yes, Eowyn. For she was not yet gone from this life. She was not yet in the halls of Mandos. She was still in my grasp. I strode to her room, with Eomer trailing behind me. Finally, finally I reached my beloved's chamber. Again, I crushed the herb, and I used the herb-saturated water to bathe her brow.

"Eowyn, please wake, Eowyn, my love, wake and walk amongst the living once more!"

She did not respond to my pleas. However, I knew what I had to do. Eomer, her brother, had always been there for her. Perhaps Theodred would have been a better pick, but he was probably one of the men calling her to death. I placed her hand in her brother's, and said, "_Call her!_" Quickly, I left the room, for I could not see Eowyn responding, or not responding, when she would not to me. My hopes rested on Eomer, and I would learn soon enough whether my trust had failed or succeeded. Until the time was right, I went to my third patient: Merry. What he was doing here I did not know, nor did I want to at the moment. Pippin and Gandalf followed me into the room a little later. Pippin and Merry were happy together, finally. They were so lonely without each other.

As I left the room, I pondered upon the Steward. There was something to Faramir. Something more than I wanted there to be. As my grandfather foresaw my parent's fate, I could foresee mine. In some way yet unexpected, Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir, would provide an obstacle for me and something I held dear.

A/N: Next up: PART FOUR: FARAMIR.


	4. Part Four: Faramir

I forgot to mention two things. One: this story is actually more book verse/AU than movie. I just have some things like the Evenstar from the movie that wasn't in the book. Two: Italics can stand for either thoughts or quotes. I'll leave it to your judgment to figure out which is which.

Also, in this chapter, I'm altering one other detail. Here Faramir doesn't know about his father's death until…well until.

Responses:

Telhyandowen: Yes, he can be rather stupid. That's why I like him so much. I can bend him to my will (hehehehe). Yep, angst, though this chapter wasn't exactly what I planned, there is just as much angst.

Eowyn0734: Oh, believe me, he'll get hurt, and not all right here either! Hehehehe.

EllowynTinuviel: Thanks for the review, it's always great to get a review from you. I still can't believe GHS is done by the way, do some more LotR! I'm waiting, and I don't know anything about this other thing you're doing!

Vor Tirla Laime: I'm glad you're enjoying it.

Okay, sorry it took so long. There are three reasons: school, Faramir's hard to write because he talks too much, and I got sick just as I was about to post this. That should be good enough for you all!

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Four: Faramir

How does one describe such feelings that go beyond words? Since I was a small child, I had a passion for words. For what was speech without words? What was communication without speech? What was life without communication? What was man without life? And of course, we are men. There is nothing more infinite than words. One mere vocabulary is amazingly complete. We speak so fluently that we don't even realize that we are speaking sometimes. We let habit take over our words, or our emotions, and we speak without stopping to think. When the butcher says "G'day, sir, 'ow can I 'elp ya", he does not think of his words. If he thought about it, and spoke slowly, he might say "Good day, how may I help you?" His grammar would be accurate, and his words would be complete and well formed.

I used to play games with my friends or the soldiers on long nights, and I sometimes still do. I used to ask them to fine something that no amount of words could describe. The more words I had to use to describe it, the more points the person could get. The problem was that the men would have difficulty explaining what they were meaning. I would also ask riddles, the kind where the answer is all in one mere word. I loved those kind, or beating-around-the-bush type of riddles. One of my favorite games was when one person would whisper a word into my ear, and another would whisper a different word. They could be similar, or they could be completely different. Nobody knows until the words have both been whispered. Then I would tell everyone the two words, and then try to link them in some way. For example, there might be "window" and "basket." I could say that windows have shutters made from wood, and baskets are also made from wood. Well, that may not be the best example, but I'm rather distracted by Eowyn right now.

Anyway, back to my account of this story. This was a time when I had found something that could not be put into simple words. Not even Elvish words, which go beyond simple Common. No, in fact, set next to Eowyn of Rohan, words became dull and unsatisfactory. For Eowyn was beyond them, yet they were certainly not beyond her.

Eowyn had a way with words. When she spoke, a blunt, harsh voice came from her. Her words were just as blunt. They lacked rhythm and melody, they even lacked caution. But her words did not lack power. Eowyn thrust me under her sway by the first syllable she uttered. Already, ere she spoke, Eowyn had enraptured me. Her beauty was beyond…well…beyond words, to use the expression again. And her sorrow saddened me. I wondered how dead she already was, for she lacked any desire on that face. She was simply there.

But when she spoke, I understood. She had been left behind like I. We were one in a sense. Perhaps in more ways than one. Suddenly, I wanted to know everything that had ever happened to her. I wanted to know who she was, what she wanted, and why nobody gave it to her. I was willing to strangle the first name that was mentioned as to denying this women her every desire when I realized that I too could not abide her. I have never realized how hard it is to strangle oneself. I denied her. I could not let her go from the Houses, for she was so far from healed. I knew if I did abide by her will, then she would die. I would want anything but that. I would even wish her unhappiness than her death. I wondered if perhaps the reason I did this was partially selfish. I could not let her go now, not when I had just found her, but it wasn't. Not then anyway. I merely worried for her. And she wouldn't be safe away from the care of the healers.

Yet I did act then, out of instinct. I begged her to walk with me. I didn't want her to disappear back into the Houses without a promise that I might again see her. Reluctantly, she agreed. Oh, the pain she caused in me by her hesitation! I did not wish to ever hear her speak to me again for I knew that I would not receive what I wanted. As I continued my walk alone, I thought about this. I did not want her to leave me, but I knew she would. Yet, there was something I could do. I would ask if any knew anything of her, perhaps then I would learn how to cure Eowyn. Already, I called her Eowyn. I was appalled by my own forwardness. Never before had I even thought of a woman. None seemed to take my interest. They were all the same as the last, and the next. When would there be something different? Something that would shake the court of Gondor? Why could a man find no discussions of issues in his wife? Why could the women not think for themselves? They were educated! Sometimes I wondered if perhaps education was exactly what silenced their reason. Education filled their heads with fluff and tidbits so that they could "politely partake in a polite conversation about polite society." Three out of nine words being "polite" in one tutor's, who happened to also be a friend of mine, favorite saying to the ladies, it is a ridiculous education. Of course, it is true that if the ladies here did not receive this polite education on how to politely partake in a polite conversation about polite society they would have nothing of which to speak whatsoever. Polite society no longer suffices, so what then? They sit in silence, smiling on in that ever annoying way of theirs.

But Eowyn was that refreshing soul. She could shake the court by even glancing there from a mile away if she wanted to. Eowyn had a power. I didn't know if she realized it, but she did. She could move a mountain with a word. And, if she asked, I would move a thousand mountains for her.

This was crazy. I couldn't be in love with someone I had just met! But then her lovely blue eyes drifted back into my mind, and once again I knew that I loved her already. Her eyes were an amazing color. I had never seen such a color before. It was such a pure, light blue, without any other color. I imagined her happy, her eyes glowing and glittering. When I had met her, her eyes were blank, giving no hint to her thoughts. This surprised me. Most have not already learned to hide their feelings by that age. I knew then that Eowyn had suffered more than most. I didn't know what, but how I wanted to know. As we spoke, I struggled to learn how to read her. I wanted to know how to read her. Eowyn was like a book that I couldn't put down. But yet, she was also like nothing I had ever known or could possibly understand. She lured me in and I was trapped, like a fly in a spider's web, in the mystery of Eowyn.

Finally, I reached the Warden. I figured that he would be the best place to start. I did not want to hear the nurses' gossip. I wanted the truth. I wanted to understand Eowyn for who she was, is, and will be, not what some silly young woman thinks of her.

"Tell me of Eowyn of Rohan," I commanded as I came upon him.

The warden appeared startled by my desire. Perhaps he thought me mad and wanted to humor me. I was not mad, but I didn't care what he thought so long as he told me.

And tell me he did.

"Well…well sir, Eowyn of Rohan. Well, she was brought by the Prince Imrahil, your uncle, if I rightly recall, the son of Arahil, son of…" Here I cut him off.

"I know my uncle's history, for it is also my own. The Lady Eowyn, warden." I had decided to keep this official. The warden had a tendency to meander for many hours around the subject before finally reaching the point. I suppose, looking back on all I have written here, I have such a tendency myself, but that is beside the point again.

"Sir. Prince Imrahil brought her in. She had been fighting. She was in the battle. A hobbit, Meriadoc Brandybuck, has been associated with her. He'd be the one to ask, I don't know much about her. She had a broken arm, and was under the Black Breath. She was thought to be dead. Even I did not think I could help her. But she did heal. A man, Ioreth mentioned something about him being King, came and healed her, just as he did you. He also visited her shortly before he left. I know not of what passed between them, but I know that she did not know that he was going to ride without her. He ensured that the fact was kept from her until the men were gone. When they were gone she became even more sorrowful…."

I had heard enough. I knew where my true resource lay. Meriadoc Brandybuck. And I had an advantage with making his acquaintance.

I entered the room in which he was staying, and I saw him sitting on the bed, staring out the window. I had heard from Ioreth that he was almost healed, but he still tired easily, and he had nowhere else to go, so he remained in the Houses.

"Meriadoc?" I said softly.

He jumped; he had not heard me enter. I remembered then that I had a tendency to go softly when I was about to enter unknown territory. A strange hobbit was what I included as such territory. Particularly approaching him on the subject of Eowyn. I looked at his face, and I thought _could she be in love with him? He is certainly handsome enough._ But I drove the thought from my head. It only made things more complicated. Besides, I knew enough about Eowyn to know that she would not fall for this hobbit.

"I'm sorry to disturb you, Master Meriadoc. I merely wished to meet you, for I have heard much about you. My name is Faramir. I am a…friend… of your friend Pippin. He talks about you so frequently, and I thought that, us being in the same Houses for however long, I should meet you ere the end. Do…do you mind?"

He regarded at me thoughtfully, and then leapt, no, sprung, injured as he was, from his position on the bed to right in front of me.

"'Tis a pleasure to make your acquaintance, milord! Pippin's spoken highly of you to me as well! I have oft wished to meet you! Please, sit down. Would you like some pipe-weed, perhaps? I have some in my pack, I don't have an extra pipe, however. Do you have one on you?"

I smiled. How he reminded me of Pippin, my dear friend. I had hesitated when I called Pippin a friend, because it was hard to say that I had a friend. I had always been so cautious around my father not to mention friendships with any of the rangers, lest he take me away from them. I supposed I would have to go back to that someday soon, but for now I was in the Houses of Healing, away from my father, and so near Eowyn.

Also, I hardly saw Pippin as a friend. It was strange. Pippin had always made me feel as though I was his father, and he were my son. I couldn't explain it, but I truly felt that way.

Meriadoc, on the other hand, was much more controlled and thoughtful.

"Nay, Master Meriadoc, I don't have a pipe on me, however, I would not smoke if I did, for it would ruin my dinner."

The truth is, I have never quite been fond of smoking since my brother died.

He smiled. "Of course. Please sit! And there is no need for formalities between us, for you are a friend of Pippin's, thus you are a friend of mine. Call me Merry. Sit!"

I obeyed. I spent several minutes making common conversation, before cutting to the chase and asking of Eowyn.

"Merry, you are a friend of Lady Eowyn's, are you not?"

He smiled. "Aye, I am. You have met her then?"

I only nodded.

"You wish to understand her?"

Again, I nodded.

He sighed. "I will not tell you everything, for some things you must come to understand on your own. I also do not wish to be the one to… to tell you of these things. However, I will help you to understand her.

"When I first met her, Eowyn had already suffered much. I know not all of her troubles, but I can figure how tragic they must have been in order to provoke such a severe reaction from her. To add to her troubles, it seems as though Eowyn had fallen in love with someone. Strider, we call him. You might know him by the name of Aragorn. I know not. However…"

Merry glanced at me and stopped. "Is there something the matter, milord?"

I caught his eye, searching for what he meant. I was too flustered to even heed the fact that I had yet to tell him not to call me "milord," something I commonly do upon meeting someone, particularly since Merry had already asked for me to abandon titles.

"Milord, you suddenly went pale. Have I said something that has offended you?"

I shook my head, more to clear it than to negate his question. "Nay, Merry, I am well. I merely tire easily still."

He nodded, but still he hesitated. He looked to his feet while biting his lower lip. However, just as I was opening my mouth to say something, I didn't know what, he resumed his story.

"She fell in love with him. Yet, for all the love she gave to him, Strider loved her not. He had another, he loved an Elf maid, so he would not return her feelings. I sense, but do not know, that bitter emotions were exchanged between them. That is, until, quite suddenly, the…" He paused, and caught my eye, but I pretended not to notice. "Until the strangest thing happened. Eowyn seemed to care no longer for Aragorn. She found no other, but she did not seem to hold any lingering feelings for him. However, something, probably despair over the lack of hope; for that is what despair always is, hope minus hope equals despair; she rode to battle. She was raised as a Shieldmaiden. She fights as well as any man, even with her lack of training. She was going to be left behind, but she would not stand for it. I, too, was not to ride, so she took me along. She went under the name of Dernhelm, and I went under the disguise of a bag, it seemed. We rode into the battle, I'm sure you know of it, when the Rohirrim came, we went too." He paused again, but this time, I could see the anguish on his face, this was a moment that caused him pain. I briefly considered mentioning that I did not know of the coming of the Rohirrim, but I instantly decided not. Instead I spoke to him gently, trying to calm him.

"You need not tell me more, if you do not wish. I have learned more from you than I expected to, and that is enough."

To my surprise, the hobbit shook his head. I was amazed to see, in this fourth hobbit I had met in my life, that the trait of strong will ran strongly in their kind. Why were men not more like these impressive, honorable beings? If only I came from a race of truer, greater, hearts. For all of our height, men are weak and blind, unlike these persevering creatures.

"No," he said, "I will continue, for it would be good for me as well as provide you with the answers to your questions.

"We rode too. I will always remember the terror I felt, seeing so many Orcs. There are no words to describe my feelings." Funny he should put it that way. I was finding a lot of feelings that day that could not be described. " But, for all of my fear, I also felt safe, for I had Eowyn there, behind me. She did not even shudder. I don't know what she thought, but her feelings were hidden from her stance. She was as calm as…as calm as…I don't know. She was just calm. She didn't seem to care. Now I understand more completely why. Then, I thought it was inevitable that we would all die in that battle. I didn't think anyone would live through it. Minas Tirith would fall, the Orcs would reign over the few pitiful survivors. Now, after the battle, I see what Eowyn was thinking. That was what she wanted for herself. She rode into battle for death, because she could no longer bear life. It's too complex to understand by someone who has never felt this way. I understand because I was under the Black Breath. I felt the same way. The utter despair that was thrust upon me was like the one that had already fallen upon her. Sad. She suffered both her own pain and that given to her by the Witch King. She didn't deserve it."

_She doesn't deserve any pain or anguish of any kind,_ I agreed in my mind. But I kept my thoughts to myself, to be sorted out later, and let Merry continue.

He took a deep breath, and then resumed he tail. "The king, Eowyn's uncle, had been thrown from his horse. No, really, his horse had collapsed upon him. It was horrid to see, I couldn't bear look at him, but I couldn't even if I would. I was left in horror instead by the Nagul King, who came upon Theoden. But ere he reached my king, I heard someone crying out. And there was Dernhelm, yet it was not. For Eowyn had forsaken her disguise. She stood between the Nazgul and my king like a lily separating the fox from the rabbit. She was nothing compared to this thing. There was nothing she could do. Yet, though she knew this, for Eowyn does not hold false ideals about herself, she stood her ground. She killed the monster upon which the Witch King rides…rode. But then, The Nazgul was even more terrifying in his anger than in his irritation, as you would imagine. He wounded her arm, and was about to kill her. Then I knew that I had to do something. I couldn't let something so fair and selfless die so easily. I would sacrifice myself for her, as she had sacrificed herself for our king. I remember thinking as I rose, "For Eowyn! For she is my lady, for none other can match her in skill!" poetic words, and I knew not from where they had come. All I knew, and still know, is that I swore my allegiance to Eowyn in that moment. So I did all I could do. I distracted the Witch King. I stabbed him. I was surprised that my sword held as it did. I no longer have it, thank goodness, but I sometimes wonder what luck brought me upon it. Anyway, this was all the chance Eowyn needed. Instead of doing what I expected, trying to escape the grasping hand, she cut it off. She killed the Witch King by thrusting her sword into his face…where his face would be, had he one. He died, and she fainted, not out of weakness, mind, simply out of exhaustion and lack of will to continue on. The Black Breath played a part in it too, I'd imagine. I went to Theoden, but this is not my tale, so I will not go on. That is all I know of Eowyn. We have spoken seldom since being in the Houses, for I have spent much time with my friends. Though, I also spend time mourning over my king."

I had noticed in Merry's tale how he had referred to King Theoden as "my king." I was interested in this, but I decided to wait to think upon any of this until later, for there was so much upon which to think.

"Thank you Merry, I am very grateful for your tale. You did not need to tell me of this, and you hardly know me, but you did it. Thank you. I believe that you are a great, selfless person for what you did for Eowyn, and I am honored to meet someone of your nobility. Thank you."

"Really, milord, it was nothing. I have never done much, just lived by what I believed or knew at any given time."

"And a good way to live that is. I'm sorry, but I must leave you now, for I have much to ponder."

He bowed his head in acknowledgement and I returned the gesture. I turned for the door, and began to exit, but ere I left, I thought back to his last words.

"Merry?"

His head snapped up in a surprised reaction.

"Aye, milord?"

"You need not call me "milord." I am not. I am simply the second son of the steward, and now Gondor has a king. Besides, we are friends. Faramir. That is my name."

"Faramir then," he said with a smile. He frowned slightly, and seemed to consider mentioning something else to me, but instead he shook his head and smiled again. "Faramir."

I smiled in return, and left the room.

I retreated to the garden, where I could think through all that Merry had said. The first thing that came to my mind was the fact that Eowyn must be lonely. Her brother was gone, her uncle was dead, she seemed to have few friends at all, and here she was in a strange country knowing only one person, and that person did not spend hardly any time with her. Not that I was blaming Merry, only, I wanted to make Eowyn happy. She had a companion out there.

This thought was quickly followed by the question of Eowyn and Aragorn. Merry had not told me the entire truth about this matter, I knew. Either they had had a painful fight, or perhaps she did not truly fall out of love with him. But no. I would take Merry's words at face value. I could find out more from Eowyn. She is the true person I should talk to.

I did not see her again all evening. And frankly, I was glad. I had to get myself together before I could. But in the morning, things had changed.

I woke up, and immediately wondered what I had been thinking. I knew what I had felt for Eowyn. I had felt companionship and pity for her. There was no love. I could tell that now. Eowyn was a wonderful woman, and I had mistaken my sorrow over her predicament for more than mere compassion. I thought back upon everything I had said the day before and tried to recall if I had said anything that might hint that I had loved her. But I decided I was safe. I hardly spoke to Eowyn, and my conversation with Merry never went there. There was nothing for me to fear.

I rose and dressed myself, a task I was still struggling with but refused to let be down for me, and then I went to the gardens. I hoped against hope that Eowyn would remember me. Surely she wouldn't, but I still convinced myself that she would.

To my surprise and delight, she did join me. But she joined me in silence. She would not speak throughout our entire walk. Yet, when I asked her to join me again, whatever may have inspired me to do that, she said yes. I searched to see if she was truly saying yes, or if she was merely accepting. There is a great difference between the two. There are no two words that mean the exact same thing. That is why it is so hard to explain what something means, because there is no other word like it. They may be similar in translation, but technically, they are different. Yes would mean that she truly wanted to walk with me again, and accepting would mean that she simply agreed to it.

We walked almost every day following, and I finally began to learn about her. However, more than speaking of herself, Eowyn spoke of a man. A man whose name I had learned to hate. I should not, but he was all Eowyn cared for, and it was too much for me to bear. And how was I to be this man's steward someday? When my father died, I would be left to take over. How could I go on knowing that Eowyn had married this man? Of course, there was a possibility that he loved her not back, but those hopes of mine, as well as other beliefs that I had held in my heart were dashed one day when I was talking to Eowyn.

She was talking about herself, for I had begged her again to tell me more, and she mentioned Aragorn's name again. I interrupted her. "Eowyn, what is between you and Aragorn? You need not answer, if you do not wish it."

She was silent for a while, for Eowyn does not like to talk all that often, and she likes to think about what she says first. Then she replied. "I love him."

I should have expected it, but I was surprised and disappointed all the same. But she didn't stop there. Not knowing what she was doing to me, in fact, I didn't hardly know what she was doing to me, she continued.

"I loved him almost as long as I knew him. But he loved another. An elf maid. But, suddenly, to both of our surprises, she left him. She sailed into the west. He came to me, and I cared for him. Soon after, he realized that he was in love with me. He asked me to marry him, and I said yes. We are engaged."

So this was the story that Merry had left out. He had lied to me because he had seen through my thin disguise. Probably the only one who had not yet was Eowyn herself. She was betrothed to my king. My tears threatened, but I forbad them to come yet. I was good at controlling my tears by now. Very good. I decided to keep any thoughts to myself about the story sounding rather like a rebound relationship, Aragorn needed to escape the former lover, so he went to Eowyn. I didn't say anything about the fact that the whole story sounded fabricated to help Eowyn deal with the fact that this was not real. She had to force herself to believe this. She could believe whatever she wanted. I didn't care one way or another.

Instead I changed the subject.

"I'm scared of becoming the steward. When my father dies, it will be up to me to take his place. I was never prepared for this. My brother was always the heir. Naturally, one would think that I would be prepared in case my brother died, as he did, but my father was convinced that I couldn't do it, so he clung to the believe that Boromir would return each time, even after he died, and save the kingdom from my stewardship."

Eowyn looked at me strangely. Had I changed the subject to quickly? "Eowyn?"

"Faramir, are you not aware of your father's current…situation?" She asked.

I shook my head, bewildered.

"Faramir, I can't believe that they haven't told you yet. Faramir…your father is…he…he has moved on."

"What?"

"He has gone to the halls of Man…"

I don't know what I did next. I completely blanked out from that syllable on. Eowyn told me later that I screamed at her, she even remembers what I said, but as this is my tale, I will not include it here.

The next thing I remember is waking up in my bed, and Ioreth bending over me, making some soothing noises.

"Is it true?" I sobbed. I probably sounded like a little boy, but I didn't care. I wanted to be a little boy again. I wanted my mother.

"Hush, dear, yes, it is true. Don't worry. He died peacefully. He could not face the end hopeless, for hopeless he was. He knew Boromir to be dead, and he thought you to be dying as well. When he saw you, he instantly went into a feverish worry. He couldn't continue. But I will not recount the whole story; it would not do to have you pass out again. It was not healthy for you to know what happened yet. That is why we kept it from you. Eowyn did not know this however, and…" She continued talking to me, but I did not continue listening. Ioreth is one of those people who can talk forever, and she doesn't really expect anyone to listen. She simply finds it comforting to her patients to hear a gentle voice. Which is true. It lulled me to sleep finally, before I could ask any questions about what she had said. She reminded me of my mother. She was so gentle and kind. She could care for small babies and great warriors alike. Just like mother. Mother knew how to sooth my father's pride, which is extremely hard, I can tell you, and at the same time, she would care for Boromir and me. Yet, for all her gentleness, she was respected. Nobody dared to cross the stewardess. She was the power of Gondor. When she weakened, Gondor weakened, when she died, Gondor died. At least, that was what I had always thought. I expressed these opinions to Boromir once, and he called it nonsense. But later, when we were away from all other ears, he told me that I was right, and that only I could bring Gondor to life again. I told him that no one could bring mother to life again, thus Gondor could not be revived, and he told me that I already had brought mother back to life.


	5. Part Five: Eowyn

EllowynTinuviel: I liked that chapter a lot too. In fact, I think it's my favorite. I agree with you on the thoughts about words. That was one of the things that I always thought about when I thought about Faramir. His fascination with words.

Rebby-Eowyn: He'll have a hard time dealing with it.

Elvishgurl: I agree. I really wanted for him to find out in a more dramatic way than he did in the books. I felt that Eowyn telling him would be very interesting.

Eowyn0734: Thanks for reading and reviewing!

Xx.EvenStar.xX: I have thought about a chapter on Arwen, but I'm not sure if I'll do it. I've also thought about her coming back, and I keep thinking how funny it would be, but then things would work out too well…

Vor Tirla Laime: Thank you for your complements on Faramir's POV. It's funny how angst can put poor souls like ourselves in a good mood.

Tellhyandowen: I'm glad you liked Merry's character. I was worried that it wasn't very hobbitish, so thank you for your reassurance. My second favorite part of that chapter was when he found out about his father and the engagement, but I have to say that my favorite is what Boromir said. As for your story, it was truly wonderful. PLEASE WRITE MORE! Here we go with more Eowyn.

Sorry it took so long everybody. I wrote this awhile back, but just haven't gotten it posted. Thanks for reading! Also, in case you are wondering, I have decided what is going to happen. This probably won't be much longer, even though it is only five chapters long.

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Five: Eowyn

To wake up; after I thought I was lost in that horrid darkness, alone, forever; to Eomer's face, filled with fear and anguish, and to see his face break into a smile, that was the perhaps the greatest moment of my life. There were few moments that could possibly amount to, let alone surpass, that moment. However, I fell back wondering if it could have just been a dream, and I was again lost in those fears, where the Nagul King lived, and had done as he promised me ere he died, to lay my mind naked before the Dark Lord himself. But that was far from my greatest fear. All of the horrors I had imagined, experienced, or been threatened with swarmed against me again, as I fought to resurface. Then, to wake up a second time, this time to his face, that came as close as anything I had yet experienced. Aragorn. He was there, with me. He spoke to me. We did not speak of anything of great importance. Towards the end of the conversation, he mentioned something about our engagement.

"Eowyn, I wanted to know if this is really what you want…"

I looked at him, puzzled, for he had said this without previously introducing the subject.

"The engagement…"

I sighed. "Have you spoken to Eomer…"

"Yes."

This time, I rolled my eyes. "Eomer knows not of what he speaks. I have told you of my sufferings and of my loves. Eomer believes that I seek you as light with which to ward my night. He is wrong. I love you. I will marry you. I _want_ to marry you." I said these words, but my soul filled with doubt. Was this true? Did Aragorn truly love me? Or was he merely turning to me when there was nobody else? I shook myself. Of course he was turning to me when there was nobody else. That was what true love was. I was there when nobody else could be, as he was there for me. That was how it would always be. Aragorn truly loved me, and I him. We had to learn how to handle each other, we didn't understand one another's needs quite yet, but we would make it through. We were similar enough that it couldn't be that hard…could it?

What I didn't understand is that I shouldn't just be a last resort. I had never had the opportunity to understand a true relationship. I didn't see that he should turn to me in times of need, but he should also turn to me in times of happiness. He should _want_ to turn to me. I did not need his comfort, for it meant nothing if it was not fully given. But I did not see this at the time. I did not see it until a good deal of time had passed, and wounds that would perhaps never be healed had been inflicted.

He smiled at me in response to my assurances, but he did not seem to mean it. However, I refused to let myself see his hesitation. Here, on the brink of disaster, the last think one needs is hesitation. The slightest trace of regret and I would tumble into the darkness that still threatened me; my heart would be trampled upon without a thought. And Aragorn would not even know what he had done!

He kissed me gently, and then rose to leave; as he reached the door, he turned back to me.

"Eowyn…"

"Aragorn, I'm sure. I will become your queen and a lady of your people," I said in response. I hesitated, and then murmured, "if indeed you will still have me."

He smiled. "I see, for all that the Witch King might have taken from you, he could not steal your wit. Indeed, I will return for you." With those words, he left me.

I assumed at first that he meant that he would return to the Houses of Healing for me. I learned too late that what the elders always said was true. Never assume. I assumed this, but I found I was wrong. Ere I knew it, Aragorn had ridden into the east with the other lords of the west. I was destroyed. How could he abandon me? I wondered. How could he speak to me of nothing, and then leave as though he had told me everything. I knew in my heart that when he returned things would not be the same. I was sure that he was going to die. This mission would ruin all of our chances. I would not marry Aragorn.

Then I met the Steward of Gondor. I had heard of Denethor, and not all of the things I heard were as noble as one would think. For all my nobility, I was not too high to listen to the rumors and stories that were passed through the lowest places of the Golden Hall. For, amid the lies and fancies, there was often truth. One merely needed to know where to search for it.

I understood Denethor to be a cold man, a harsh ruler, and a fearsome enemy. For all that I knew him to be, I respected him. He was a mighty warrior, even at his age.

But when I met Faramir, I understood a different side of Denethor, a different side of Gondor, and, as insane as it might sound, a different side of myself. Aragorn, I thought to be akin to me in many ways, but Faramir was like me in a way completely different.

I did not see it at first. I knew not what to look for, but slowly, as we spoke together, for he begged that we do so, I learned who he was.

Faramir was a noble man, but those words do not describe him, for there can be many different types of nobility. He did not speak oft, not because he did not care for speech or was unused to it, as was the case for me, but because he preferred contemplation. His dreams often reflected in his eyes, and I heard his voice speaking even when his lips did not move. He dreamt of happiness, and of peace. No more war. He dreamt of a garden, flourishing and bright. But the strangest dream he had was a dream of love. Surely, I thought, he had a woman, somewhere, whom he loved. Of course, I reasoned, he might have not had time for such things, but most men did. Why was Faramir different?

But I began to see more clearly what he was thinking. He missed his brother; he missed his father. I knew that there was great love between Faramir and his brother Boromir, and I saw how great the loss of Boromir was to Faramir. I learned of his father too, through both true speech and that strange speech that we shared in times of silence. He had not shown Faramir any love, but Faramir truly believed that he did not deserve it. He saw his father as a great person, greater than any other he knew, besides perhaps Boromir and Aragorn, albeit, he hardly knew Aragorn, but he maintained a great respect for the man. He thought that he was truly worthless to his father.

However, I always felt as though he thought that Denethor yet lived. Of course, he knew that he did not, but he dreamed about his father as though was alive. It awoke a pity in me that I thought did not exist. His misery was beyond that I had seen before.

But then, I understood one day.

Our conversation was fine. I was telling him about my brother's protective personality. I thought of every time I could when Eomer had tried to guard me from dangers; I tried mostly to tell the ones in which Eomer ended up making a fool out of himself, for it made Faramir laugh. How I liked it when he laughed! It drew me out of my sorrow for a moment, that little chuckle of his.

But then, I became somber, for a moment, and I said, almost to myself, thinking upon my regret, "Of course, he tried to protect me from Aragorn, though there was no danger."

I was startled when he suddenly used that line to move the conversation in a different direction. One I was not so fond of recounting to him.

"What is between you and Aragorn?" he asked. I must have appeared surprised, for he added, "you do not have to answer."

I thought. How much was I ready to tell this man? Faramir, who had rescued me from my solitude without allowing me to even acknowledge it. For certain, if I had realized that this was Faramir's intention in the beginning, when he asked me to walk with him, I would have never allowed him to continue in our friendship, but as it was, he managed to hide from my eyes that my cold heart was melting.

But did I trust him? Yes, more than anyone else. I understood him in a way that I guessed no one else could, thought perhaps his brother could, so it was only fair that he understand me in the same way.

"I love him." I thought about my love, Aragorn. When would he return? I knew that he would like Faramir. They would talk about things for hours, they were a lot alike in some ways. It would be a great friendship. I couldn't wait to introduce them!

But then I continued. "I've loved him for almost as long as I've known him…" again, I hesitated, and then I proceeded to recount the story to Faramir. I will not do so here, for I do not remember exactly what I said, and I'm sure that any readers of this writing has already heard this story more times than they wish to. I have spoken it more than I wished to, for it fills me with sorrow, though not regret, to think upon what could have been, and what I almost did. I do not like to think upon my mistaken illusions.

Swiftly, Faramir changed the subject. I was startled yet again, but I hid it. _I suppose that there is no more chance of finishing that story… what was it again? Oh yes, I was going to tell him about the time when I told Eomer that I was raising a baby wolf and he believed me…_

But, more than being surprised by the change of subject, I was surprised by what the subject changed to. Faramir began expressing his fears of becoming Steward of Gondor. We had both spoken of our fears and hopes before, but what surprised me was this phrase: _when my father dies…_

I looked at him, horrified. Surely he knew! Surely he had not spent all this time in the dark about his father's fate! How horrid! He must have wondered why his father did not come to see him. I understood what I had seen in his eyes before. He _did_ think that Denethor was alive! And now I would be the one who would have to break the truth to him.

I supposed it was better that way. At least he trusted and cared about me. I wasn't some random healer or official, coming to tell him the horrible news. I could just imagine what it would be like if I had stayed behind in Edoras, and some soldier had come and told me, "King Theoden, your uncle, is dead." I would have to be calm and courteous in front of this man, I could not cry to him "How? HOW?" Faramir could do that to me. And he knew it too.

"Faramir… your father, he has… he has moved on…"

Puzzlement struck his face, mixed with the dread of understanding what I had said. "What?" was his only response.

I took a deep breath and continued. "He has gone to the halls of Mandos. I'm sorry Faramir, I didn't want to be the one to tell you. I didn't realize that you didn't…"

His eyes were blank. He didn't know what I had said. He didn't know what he was doing. I forgave him in full for the way he reacted. Really, he took it rather well compared to some I've seen.

"No… No…" he murmured to himself. His face was stricken with grief.

Then he began to shout. I do not know if he was shouting at me or some unseen enemy, but he would not look at me, for all my efforts to force him to.

"No! It cannot be true! You're lying. He isn't dead. He can't be! I didn't get to say goodbye!" He cried. It tore my heart. How sad he was! He fled the garden at those words, and went inside.

I only heard later what happened after. Apparently, he was very upset. The warden told me that he went into a hysterical fit, and then he finally passed out.

The warden was irritated at me for telling Faramir. I told him that I didn't know I was not supposed to, and he asked me why I couldn't use my brains to figure out what would happen. I hid my anger over my treatment through sorrow. It was one of the different ways I got rid of my anger, for I had learned early on that "it did not do to be an angry woman. You need to lighten up Eowyn…" Of course, I could not lighten up, so I pretended instead. I was surprised, however, to find that when I bowed my head, the warden suddenly said,

"No, Eowyn… I'm sorry. I should not have lectured you so. Go. You did the right thing."

I could tell he was lying, but that was not the point. The point was I had won an argument with the warden. I guessed that it probably had something to do with the fact that he didn't want another emotional breakdown. Which, of course, I understood. Inwardly, I grinned. I hadn't meant to break him down so, but that did not deter my triumph. In fact, few things could at this point. In times of victory, all I cared about was victory.

Before I continue, I would like to stop and mention something about myself, for Faramir was reading over my shoulder, to my great irritation, and mentioned that this story that I have recounted was not at all the way it happened, and many of the feelings of which I have talked were not within my personality. This is an honest account of my part in this drama that played out, for good or bad. Call me a conniving, heartless girl if you honestly get that from this story. Perhaps what you would call me is accurate to who I truly am. But that is not my concern. Each person with whom I come into contact will take away a different interpretation of me. All I can do is give them what I can, and allow them to think what they will about it. I do not think of myself as heartless, nor loving. I am merely Eowyn, and I cannot judge my personality any better than you. Situations can change the personality of a person, thus rendering it impossible to tell who a person truly, honestly, is.

So saying, I shall continue.

The moment I was thus dismissed, I fled the warden's presence, relieved. I retreated to my room, where I sat alone for many hours. I stayed there until someone knocked on my door with my dinner.

"Enter," I said as loudly as I could manage. I had felt worn out after my excitement over my winning had died.

To my surprise, no maid or nurse entered. Instead, it was a short, almost half my height, redhead who carried the try with a good bit of difficulty.

"Merry!" I exclaimed.

He smiled. "Milady, I thought to bring you your dinner, so as to talk to you."

"Please, sit. I do hope you brought enough to share," I said, again elated.

He smiled at me, his face admitting that he had. Of course, I expected him too. Would a hobbit ever consider bringing food to another person and not bring some for himself as well? I highly doubted it.

He sat down at the small table, which occupied my room.

I shall take this time to describe my room, for I don't believe I shall have another chance. It was furnished thus: in the center of the room, somewhat over near the fire, there was a wooden table and two wooden chairs. This is where I ate. Before, I had healed, I had eaten in bed, but I quickly managed to gain permission to eat at the table. I was glad, at times like these, that I was right handed, for my left arm was still broken. Of course, had I been left handed, then my sword arm would have been broken, for the Nazgul swung the mace at my left arm because it was opposite his right, and there would have been no chance to slay the Witch King.

In one corner, against one wall, and next to the door there was a small bed. Moving counter-clockwise around the room, the next wall was occupied by a fireplace with an armchair beside it. This armchair was extremely uncomfortable, for all its cozy appearance. I frequently had to dismiss the desire to sit by the fire, for I could not stand the chair. It was hard, and sunken in. The arms were too high up for the seat of the chair, and the back was too forward.

On the next wall, there was a large window, beneath which was a just as large window seat. This is where I spent most of my time, for I did not want to be in bed, but I also did not want to sit in that horrid armchair. The table chairs were merely sufficient for eating, for they, too, were quite uncomfortable. This window seat, on the other hand, was a nice place to sit, and I could see the east, as Faramir had promised me when we first met. Next to the window, there was also a wash stand and basin, for it would not fit next to the bedside table.

The next wall was the most furnished. The head of the bed was in one corner, where this wall and the first met, and there was a small table next to it, on which I could keep some small things. Usually, however, this table was used for medicines. Beside these two items, the rest of the room was filled with books, mostly herb books. Apparently, the warden, or somebody, had found that being in the Houses for so long could be quite dull, for often people would have to stay In the Houses long after they were healed, for they did not live in Minas Tirith, they were not able to fight still, and it was too dangerous for them to travel back home. I read some of these books, the simpler ones, for I did not read very well, but most of them I merely looked at the pictures. I cared not for flowers, but flipping through the images, each drawn by a careful hand, was a fine way to pass the time.

Merry sat down in one of the chairs, to my slight annoyance he picked the one in which I usually sit, and settled the tray down on the table. I took the other chair.

As we were sorting the food out, we were silent. It wasn't until we had already been eating for a while that Merry finally broke it and said.

"Eowyn?"

I glanced up at him in response.

He took a deep breath. "Have you and Faramir…Are you…are you good friends?"

I paused, trying to discern his true meaning. "Rather…" I said, hesitantly.

"You're rather good friends, you mean?" he asked.

I nodded.

He breathed out. My mind was screaming, _why do you ask? Is there something wrong? Why can we not be friends?_

But I didn't. And Merry didn't offer any of the answers until later.

"Did you hear about Faramir?" he asked.

I nodded.

"Perhaps you should go to him. He spoke to Ioreth at first, but he hasn't spoken since. It happened this morning. He hasn't spoken since one, when he woke up for the second time. I tried to speak to him, but he didn't seem to hear me. He seemed completely exhausted…"

"Merry, is that why you came?"

He paused, and then shook his head. "I came because…well, that was part of it. I came because I was wondering whether he spoke to you. We became friends a few days ago, and I was wondering if you two had too."

"What do you mean, you wondered if he had spoken to me?"

Again he paused. "Faramir came to me a few days ago, asking about you. He had met you, and he wanted to know more about you, what your story was, you know. I told him some things, but not everything. I didn't tell him about Aragorn for one thing. There were some things that I had no right to mention. Besides, he should learn them from you. If he knew everything about you, then there would be no friendship between you. Of course he knew this too."

I didn't say anything in response, not sure what to think about what I had learned. How did this affect my opinions of Faramir? I'm not sure that it did. It changed things, but not for good or back, not for anything. It wouldn't even be worth bringing it up to Faramir. It just added another mystery to ponder at night.

Merry waited for a response, and when I didn't give one, he relaxed. We ate the rest of our meal in companionable silence.

As we finished, Merry asked me a question. "Eowyn, do you still love Aragorn?"

I hesitated, wanting to give him the most honest answer possible. I searched deep inside for the complete truth. I don't want to admit it, but I ignored what I found.

"Yes."


	6. Part Six: Arwen

Sorry it took so long, I had a lot of school work, and I also didn't get much encouragement (more reviewsfaster chapters). It's finally here though!

RebbyEowyn: Everything's going to work out for the best, don't worry. However, when it comes to someone like me, you never know which one is best: happy endings, or more angst…

Alachofra: I see your point. I believe that the reason her left arm was broken was because it was opposite the Witch King's sword arm, therefore, it was the first thing he hit. It would have been in his best interest to break her sword arm, so that she couldn't fight, but since it would have been harder for him to do so, he broke her shield arm instead. Just my belief. Thanks for all your compliments!

Vor Tirla Laime: It does sound heartless, but maybe that's what we are…

EllowynTinuviel: As always, you got me writing again. Thank you for the review!

This is a review that a friend of mine sent me through e-mail, and asked that I put it on the website for her: "I am a good friend of this author and her work expresses more then what she writes. She truly puts herself into the story and it is that quality that draws you in. Five stars (or should that be seven stars to match the seven stones?) to milady!"

This chapter is dedicated to XxEvenStarxX for asking me to write this, and Omara Eldu for encouraging that idea (though she doesn't remember doing so).

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Six: Arwen

I walked through the misty valley of Rivendell. The brightest grass I've ever seen bent gently beneath my bare feet. The cold wind whipped my dress around my legs, almost making me wish I had brought a cloak on this late night walk, but it wasn't quite enough to make me truly rue my decision not to.

I saw someone up ahead. The figure was facing away from me, and was broader and taller than most elves. Elves, for all their reputation of being tall and slender, were really rather short. It was merely our grace that produced that illusion.

I walked quicker. What man would dare walk in Rivendell? There were few who even knew where it was. Surely it was a ranger. I remembered the small knife I kept in my boot. Like the cloak, this was almost enough to make me wish I had brought my boot, but not enough. I could handle this. He was a mere mortal. I could use my powers to bend his mind to my will if the need be, though surely it would not.

I approached the man as he turned towards me. I had to gasp.

"Ar…Aragorn?" I stammered.

"Arwen…" was his whispered reply.

Joy washed over me, as I threw myself into his arms. "Oh Estel! I've missed you! But wait, what happened? Is Mordor defeated?"

He paused, and then said. "No, not yet. Come, walk with me awhile. I'll tell everything in good time.:

I obeyed, though I longed to hear it now. I was just happy to be back in Rivendell next to Estel. I never wished to leave again. But then, if Estel was to leave again, I didn't know if I could handle it any longer.

But he soon made me forget my sorrows of him always leaving. I felt like we were back in Lothlorien, after so much distress. We frolicked through the valley, laughing, talking, running, walking, singing, and any other form of expressing our joy at seeing each other and our carelessness about others good night sleep.

I didn't think it would ever end. I knew that it had to, but any time that thought dared to cross my mind it was shoved aside before it reached my conscious mind. I absolutely refused to be brought down by such thoughts.

Suddenly, Estel stopped running. I had been chasing him across the valley. Estel was never one to give up easily, so I was surprised when he didn't just wait till I finally caught up to him. But then I saw the river was behind him. Though I knew that he could have easily crossed the river, and probably without sacrificing much in terms of my catching him, I realized that now he wanted to talk.

I plopped down on the grass in the least graceful way I could manage. Sometimes I felt that I made Estel uncomfortable by my Elvishness. I tried very hard to be human, but that also disturbed him greatly. Frankly, it disturbed me as well.

He tumbled down next to me, laying flat on his back, staring up at the shrouded stars. I realized again that it was rather chilly, but I cared less now than I ever did. I lay down next to Estel, and looked up at the stars. Suddenly, I found myself looking at my love, for he had sat up and was looking down at me now.

He smiled in that sweet way of his that always made me want to kiss him. But nobody was here now, so kiss him I did.

I was surprised that he pulled away so quickly, almost regretfully. After, he just lay back now next to me, and we did not speak for some time.

Suddenly, he bust out, "but it will be. The men are there now. Rohan and Gondor have united. We can beat down the enemy. Frodo and Sam have not been heard from, but we know that they will make it. The last news we received is that they were headed towards Cirith Ungol Kirith Ungol. They should be in Mordor now, even to Orodruin. Come back with me."

"What?" I asked. "What do you mean?"

"Return with me," he said gently, sitting up and taking my hands in his. "I have missed you so. I cannot leave and know that I will never see you again."

I was confused. "Estel, of what do you speak?"

"You left me! You are sailing to the Grey Havens now! I am in Mordor, and I will not live through this battle if I know that you will pass forever from my life!" he cried.

"But I'm here now, Estel! I'm here now! I love you. I can only do what I can do. Please, my love, don't die. I love you. I'm here now! You can see me, feel me. I love you!"

"You aren't here, Arwen. I'm here. You're gone already. You must come back I beg you. I love you. I don't even know who she is. How can I love her like I loved you for all those years. I've loved you for all those years…"

"Who is she?" I asked, again confused.

"Arwen…"

I woke up, breathing heavily.

I looked around me, and realized that I was, indeed, on a boat for the Grey Havens. I realized that maybe I wasn't ready to go. Perhaps I should return and try again to live the life of mortals.

But I was too frightened. It wasn't the life for me. I thought about the times when I would have to stand there, all of those humans staring at me as though I was something that was wrought in the depths of Orodruin. But I wasn't! I had my own life! I could not stand there and wait for something that could never happen forever.

I believed him when he said that he would win the war. Perhaps he would. But I couldn't win it for him. He was going to be King of Gondor. He had always placed his hopes in the dream that someday we would be together, and he neglected to think that he would have to be a different person then. I would not be his wife; I would be his Queen. I could not sacrifice who I was for him. I hoped fervently that he would not sacrifice who he could be for me. He could be the king, but if he ever learned that I left him because of his destiny, then he would forsake it. I knew that much. No, Aragorn needed to have faith in who he was before I ever told him.

Would I ever be able to tell him? I could not go to him. It would shake him too deeply. Could I explain to him through a dream? Would he understand? No, I decided. If he was to understand, it was not my place to make him. I was no longer a part of his life. I had seen love, I had seen happiness. But it was not my love and happiness. I would diminish into the West, till I became nothing more than a dubious legend remembered only by the Royal Bloodline of Gondor. This was my fate. I would accept it.

I no longer wanted the fate I had been promised so many years before. I was tired. I didn't want to toil any longer in the land of Men. For, as my father predicted, it was but the land of Men. There was no longer any need for Elves. We had our own destiny elsewhere, and there was nothing to keep us in Arda.

_Nothing but love and friendship, _a dangerous part of my mind whispered. It was this voice I had followed almost to the point of self-extinction. I had been willing to give up everything that _I_ held dear, for everything that _he _had to carry. I knew in my heart that Estel would rather wander the woods of the world, or better yet remain forever in Rivendell with me, but he also understood that this was his destiny.

Sometimes the only way that two people can be together is the only thing that is keeping them apart.

This is not my destiny. I was meant for different things. I was not supposed to live in the royal bedchamber of Minas Anor, spending my days staring into the West. It would be better to be among my own people, in a place where I was look upon with sympathy rather than blankness, and stare off into the East. I would rather be unhappy with my choice of unhappiness, then unhappy with my choice of happiness.

I went up onto the deck. I walked over to a sailor and asked, "How long until we reach the Havens?"

"Not long, milady, not long," he replied. He had a friendly smile; I liked him immediately. I sat down on a bench nearby. I wanted to stay out in the sea air. It was refreshing after my…nightmare? Vision? Amazing dream? I didn't even know how I felt about my one love coming to me in a dream! What had happened to me?

"You're the Evenstar, are you not?" the sailor asked.

"I am."

"The Lady of Rivendell?"

"I am."

"The one who fell in love with a mortal."

This time, it was not a question. He stated it softly, almost to himself. But it was not to himself. It was to me. He was asking me an entire lifetime (you don't want to know how long that can be) of questions. How to respond? I could stay silent, but I was tired of staying silent. I had a voice, but I so rarely found the strength to use it. What was the use? I was but an elf-woman who fell in love with a mortal. No one would care. They would merely say either that all my problems are my own fault, or they are the fault of the mortal. He contaminated me in some bizarre, never fully explained or thought out way.

I bust out crying my entire story. I told him how we met, how he called me Tinuviel, the wonder in his eyes, the adoration. I told him about how we met again in Lorien, and spent the most glorious moments of my life, of our lives, there together. I told him how Estel then came to Rivendell with the hobbits, how they left on another mission, how I lost hope even though I knew that there was still some left, how I didn't want to wait any longer, so I fled. Finally, I told him about my dream the night before.

I could have easily blamed it all on my father, saying that he had torn us apart, and that I longed to go back to my love, and I almost did. But then the voice of reason reached my mind's surface. "You could." It said. I could have gone to Aragorn. I knew he would become king eventually, he had been preparing for this, deep down, if now on the surface, for eighty-eight years now. Eighty-eight. So young, yet so old.

When I finished my tale, the sailor said nothing. I wondered if he had heard me. I wondered if he didn't exist, and I had just imagined him there. Everyone else must think I'm crazy. But no, he was still there wasn't he?

I cleared my throat.

He didn't respond.

"Sir, did I burden you with my tale? I'm sorry. I did not mean to…"

"Why do you think these things, milady? First of all, what matter is it to you if you burden me? I asked for it. Albeit, subtly, nonetheless. I asked for it, and you answered me. Second of all, what makes you think you have burdened me? I have said nothing to make you think such a thing," he finally said.

"Exactly, you said nothing at all!"

"What would you have liked me to say, milady? I could have given you advice, but you've already made your decision, and you must live with the consequences. There's no advice I, only a sailor, could grant you. I could have comforted you, but then you wouldn't have liked me very much would you have? You don't want someone to tell you it will all be all right, because it won't. You'll have a lot of adjusting to do. Then maybe it will be okay, but you'll always this will always put you into misery. I could have told you that you made the right decision, but you didn't. I could have told you that you made the wrong decision, but you didn't. I cannot lie, milady. It does not come easily to me like it does to some. None of the words I listed would have been the right thing to do. Therefore, I did nothing at all."

He had a point. And it was a brilliant point. I loved his freedom. He was not chained to any stone. He did not have to worry about anything. A Sea Bird flew overhead, crying as it did so. He was like that Sea Bird, as he imitated its call. He didn't need anything but exactly what he had. No hard decisions. No complications. Oh, why was it I who always did things like fall in love with mortals!

"I'm sorry, sir, but I've blurted out my entire story, and you have not even shared your name."

He smiled. It was a slow smile. Slow to come, and even slower to go. I liked it.

"Perhaps you shall find out someday," he said.

"I'm sorry but…"

"Why do you apologize for everything? You didn't say anything wrong. Logically, neither did I, but if it was either of us it would have been I."

I looked down at my feet. I almost apologized for apologizing, but then I thought better of it. But, after a second's hesitation, I thought better of that as well. "I'm sorry…"

He looked at me carefully, trying to see if I was really dumb, or if I was teasing him. His smile started. I smiled back. It grew. I laughed. He laughed with me.

It was one of the greatest moments of my life. I recognize that I above wrote that my time with Aragorn in Lorien was the greatest moment of my life, and it was. This sailor was in no way replacing him. It was different. This was laughing after a period of sever sorrow. You may be thinking that I was falling in love with him, and maybe I was. But that was not really a consideration at that point. I had to wait until I could be sure. For now, any love I might enter would merely be a rebound situation. I did not want that. Besides, I had plenty of time to fall in love and mourn for the loss of my old love. It wasn't like I was going to die very soon.

"So what is your name?" I asked, after our laughter subsided.

"I thought I already answered that."

"You failed to. You said that I would find out someday."

"And someday you will."

"Is today someday?"

"Every day is someday. If there was a designated day to be someday, then we wouldn't have to say someday would we? We would just say 'Sunday' or 'Thursday' or 'Monday' or 'Wednesday' or 'Tuesday' or 'Saturday' or 'Friday.'"

I thought for a moment, and then I realized that he had included all the days of the week, just in a very odd order. He was truly one of the most interesting people I had yet met.

"What is this someday?"

"Do I know?"

"You know when you want to tell me."

"Milady, until the time is right, I shall not know when I will tell you. That is the great thing about living life by the moment. I might tell you two seconds from now…" he paused, "Or I might not. And as you can see I chose the not. I might do anything at any given moment, and then do the exact opposite and contradiction the next. There are no rules when you live without rules."

"But isn't that a rule? That there are no rules?" I couldn't believe that I was allowing myself to be caught up in this riddle of his. This was exactly what he wanted me to say, and I had surrendered to him. How foolish was I?

But I was rewarded; he smiled.

"But if I want there to be rules, then there will be rules. Therefore, the rule of no rules is non-existent."

"But if you want there to be rules, then you don't live without rules!"

He smiled and shook his head. "Perhaps it is too mighty a philosophy for a mere lady. Perhaps one truly must live before one can understand what I say."

I became indignant, but I hid it well. He saw it anyhow. He just shook his head and turned away. I realized after he had walked off that he had diverted me from my original question: what was his name.

I thought about him for the rest of the voyage, mostly to divert my mind from other people. I had once told Aragorn that there were four men who meant something to me. My father, my brothers, and him. I told him this in response to his doubt about the truth of my feelings. These were the same four men I was desperate not to think about. Yet, was that true still? Were they the only meaningful men to me? Perhaps, and then perhaps not. I could only wait and see. If Fate lead me to love and happiness, I would embrace that destiny with all my heart. If it left me to the fate I had allotted for myself, I would accept that to, as it was what I had anticipated when I made my final choice.

I pondered my future. Would I ever see any of them again? Ought I hope against hope that I might see Estel again? It was a painful thought but I didn't know the answer.

I found myself crying, and now there was no one to comfort me. My one comfort had been driven off, either by duty, or by becoming bored with my sorrow. Which one it was, I couldn't know. I could not blame him for either, so it didn't matter much which. Yet, I still wanted to know.

Before I knew it, we had docked. I looked behind me as I walked towards the ramp down to shore, searching for the sailor who had been so kind. I thought I had found him, going up to the crows nest, but then he turned, and I didn't think it was him. I faced in front of me again, and started to get off the ship. Suddenly I turned, I had an idea.

I strode over to the sailor who was ensuring that everyone got off well, and I said, "There is a sailor on this ship, and I want to know who he is. He was coiling rope over there earlier today…"

The sailor gave a knowing grin. "Aye, he's the nicest elf aboard. His name is Oirin."

I smiled in return, and then got off the ship.

_Remember Forever. _It was his name. But who was to be remembered?


	7. Part Seven: Aragorn

MAEday: They're my favorites too, and they do deserve each other. I was thinking about making this a little less-than-perfect, but I think it will end up that way no matter what I do, so I might do so, you'll just have to wait and see (hehehe)

EllowynTinuviel: As usual, your comments are very welcomed and appreciated. I'm glad that you liked what I did with Arwen. I had meant this to be a threesome, but I guess that chapter was rather necessary. Thank you! (write!)

Steelelf: I'm usually pretty merciful. Don't you fear.

Rebby-Eowyn: Thank you very much. Oirin was truly not intended to happen. He's sort of like Faramir in that way :-)

Telhyandowen: I went into mourning when you said that your stories were lost. I don't know how you get over things like that. Thank you so much for your encouraging comments. It is always nice to read them. As I said to Rebby-Eowyn, Oirin was way out there and not intended. But he turned out well. I shared your concerns about bringing Arwen in, but I liked the chapter in the end.

Someone to Catch My Tears

Part Seven: Aragorn

I woke breathing heavily. I knew why I had dreamed as I had dreamed. I also doubted that she remembered. Elves don't hold to dates as we do. Arwen always asked, "Why is one day more important than another? Why should I remember what happened twenty years ago today, and not last year tomorrow?"

Though my answer to her made sense to me, that there was nothing significant to her that happened tomorrow, when there was today, she still didn't understand.

"What if tomorrow the greatest hero of Arda was born?" she would ask.

"What if he was not?" I would reply. Yet it wouldn't make any difference. She would still insist that tomorrow MIGHT be as important as today, and today MIGHT be utterly insignificant in the long run.

I suppose it was true, too. March twenty-second. What was special about that day? Twenty-two days after my twentieth birthday, I returned to Rivendell. That was what was significant about that day. Yet, in the long run, it didn't matter. I would marry Eowyn, whether I had met Arwen or not. The question remained, however, would I have fulfilled my destiny as King of Gondor if I had not met Arwen?

Of course, that day was not entirely insignificant to me now, for that was the day I learned of my heritage. But was that enough to make it worth thinking about it.

I had dreamed of her. We were together again. I do not remember my dream, but I know it was of her. Perhaps it was a resurfacing memory, a flash of foresight, or a final contact over the great distances that stretched between us. Those distances that I so sorely felt, and she seemed to disregard as if they were two inches.

Again I wondered why she had abandoned me. What had made her change her mind? Would I ever understand? Or was it a question beyond my reaching. Perhaps it was merely a sudden whim upon which she acted. That was how it felt to me. But I knew Arwen better than that. She had thought about it. She had decided that she didn't want to live with me; she didn't want to live among men; she wanted to go to the Grey Havens; she didn't want me to be so dependant upon her.

I knew that the last reason was probably the main one. I knew that I had done everything for her, when I should have done it because that was who I was. I knew that I could not marry her until I was King of the United Kingdoms, so I set my heart about doing so. There were parts of my heart which begged me to forsaken this plight, but I could not.

Yet, I found it strange that I had had no difficulty being forever faithful to Arwen until the day she moved on. I never cast an eye on another woman, yet I could not resist Eowyn when she came to me. Yet only after Arwen was gone. I had known Eowyn before Arwen left my life, but I did not love her as she loved me. But now, I thought about her in my every waking moment.

_But of whom do you think in your sleeping moments?_

I would not answer that vile voice in my head, for it already knew the answer when it asked that sly and sharp question that was liable to open a thousand and one wounds all over again. I would not heed such a cruelly intended question, for I was stronger than that.

I looked out the tent flap, and realized, to my bitter relief, that it was nearly dawn. The men would rise soon, and we would continue on another treacherous day to our doom.

Yet, at least it would be day, when I could control my thoughts. In the presence of others, I had learned to almost completely void my mind of thought. Living with Elves will do that to you, as they can practically read minds. It was when I was alone in the dark that I feared most what my dark mind might think. Particularly in sleep, when I could not cut off a thought that had gone too far.

I heard a cough from Eomer's tent, and I knew that he too was readying himself for the day. I crossed over to the center of the tent circle and rekindled last night's fire. I started preparing to fix something warm to eat for the captains. The others made their own food over their own small fires.

Eomer joined me shortly. We were both grateful for the silence that surrounded us for the moment. Both of us thought our own thoughts, but we both knew upon which lady both of our thoughts lay.

It was not long, however, before our silences were broken by a small, breakfast craving, man. Pippin scurried over to join us at our fire, and his loud voice soon woke everyone in the camp. There was no more time to think. All the better.

The long day passed, and by the time we stopped for the night, I did not think I would have the strength within me to think that night. I did my best to exhaust myself beyond the point of exhaustion to ensure that this be the case. Yet, none can ever challenge fate, even with something as solid as fact. Logically, I would have passed out the moment I entered my tent that night, if not before, after the long day I had endured. But (and perhaps it would be fair to say "fatally," for this torture nearly killed me), I would not sleep that night. For fate defies logic, and indeed I did not fall asleep until many hours after I had lain down to sleep.

I thought of her. Of Arwen and of Eowyn. Who is "She?" Only one wiser than I in such matters could know. I did not understand my own heart, which is a dangerous fact. I did not doubt my love for Eowyn; I just doubted its nature. Did I truly love her as I said I did, or did I merely hope fore someone to take the place of Arwen? I did not truly believe myself to be that sort of person, but I did not understand why I had so willingly accepted Eowyn.

My heart told me that I had known all along that it was meant to be Eowyn, and that I had just refused to see it until I finally realized that Arwen didn't care, so I then opened my heart to my true love. But I had long since learned that the heart is a fickle thing, and the words that spring from it are like flowers in summer. They live out their time, and then they die. They cannot be trusted.

But one fact remained true. Eowyn and I needed each other. We were both lost causes, and we had turned to each other in our times of need. We had both been wounded painfully, and both been cured by each other. Why shouldn't we be in love? We had saved each other from a disaster unthinkable.

I decided that I would find a way, no matter what happened in the next few days, to return to my beloved, at least for the very end. Just so that she knew I loved her, and that I had not abandoned her. I refused to let myself consider that I had made this oath just so that I knew that I loved her. I decided that I would fall asleep, confident in my love for Eowyn.

The only concern was, when I imagined returning to her for the final hour, it was not Eowyn I saw in my mind's eye.

Nor was it Arwen, but another maid. One I had yet to lay eyes one in reality. So I told myself that it was my tired brain's manifestation of a woman. Perhaps this was what someone looked like that I had known long ago. I did not know. But I did not let myself think upon it any longer.

Instead, I focused myself on preparing for tomorrow. I don't know if fate became so bored of me and my boring subject of thought, or if I became so bored of myself and my boring subject of thought. But one way or another, I fell asleep soon after.

That night, I had another dream of Arwen. She was on a ship this time, and she was crying. "I was scared, Thorongil, I could not face it. The Shadow was too heavy," she said. I reached out my arms for her, wanting to hold her one last time. I wanted to protect her against her fears, but she shook her head. "Nay, I will not go to you, for it will only make the next parting harder. Aragorn, know that I am happy. Be happy yourself. Turn away from what we had. It will remain a good memory, but it can be nothing more, for we have nothing to bring us together now."

"What of our love?"

"Do you not see, Aragorn? Our love is for naught. Find your own love in your own time, for this was doomed from the beginning."

"So you say that they were all right? Our love was not strong enough to bring us together?"

"Not at all, it is just that your fate doomed our love. I could not fulfill that destiny for or with you. It was not in me to take on such a burden. It is your destiny, and you must carry it, but you cannot carry it because you have to. You had a choice; you made your choice. You made the right choice for the wrong reasons. Now you have to seek out why you are doing what you are doing. Once you can truly content yourself with what you have done and what you will do, then you can be happy. You'll see."

I didn't bother to reply. There was no reply I could make to that. I saw in the distance behind Arwen, there was a sailor that was standing and watching us. I wondered who he was, and what right he had to watch us like that. It was as though he was waiting.

Arwen slowly got farther from me, as I knew she would I let her go. I was too weary of this to fight it. Besides, I loved Eowyn now.

Eowyn!

I woke with a start, realizing that all that time I had forgotten about my love. I was arguing for another love, when I had my love right in front of me. I began to wonder if I'd ever heal.

I knew that that would be the last dream, at least this you. I dreamt of her this morning and this night, but now we had reached the twenty-third of March. I decided to sleep away the next few hours.

When I woke again, it was already late morning. When I exited my tent, the men were crouched around their fires, whispering. I caught snippets of the conversations. They were saying, "It is dark…. I don't know if we can face another day…The Shadow grows heavy…" Arwen's words suddenly came back to me. Those first words she had uttered in my dream. "I was scared; I could not face it. The Shadow was too heavy…" But I knew where I had heard those words. Finduilas had told them to me years ago. She was afraid of the coming darkness. Finduilas and I shared something special. We were the dearest friends at the time. She would hold me up, and I would hold her up. We supported each other no matter what. We fought off each others demons, and we comforted each other when the other one was sad. We were like brother and sister.

Of course, this did not sit well with Denethor, as I had already stolen his father's love, according to him. But he didn't stop us. He thought that Finduilas loved me, and he would do anything for her, she was so dear and beloved to him. So he became more distant from her, wanting to give her the room she needed, as she didn't seem to retain any of her past love for him. But he was wrong. She loved him and not me. We were just very close friends. We wouldn't dream of making such a mistake as becoming involved, even if we were both as single as the day we were born.

I stopped short in my tracks, realizing just who was so similar to the late stewardess.

Eowyn of Rohan.

They were so very similar. They cared for the same things, and distained the same things. Though Finduilas may not have been as wild-hearted as Eowyn, Eowyn herself was not as wild-hearted as many thought her. I had heard her whispering to herself, and I knew that the Shadow fill her too with dread.

But no, I know these things. I love Eowyn!

But I had already noted the similarities in both the women, and in my relationships with both of them. I was getting into a mess with Eowyn, and I knew it. I decided to break off the engagement when I returned to her.

_If I return to her, _I reminded myself sharply. I knew my chances, and I would not be misled by illusions.

I strode over to Eomer, Gandalf, and Pippin, trying to pry these thoughts from my mind. Instead of my heart, I focused on others. I decided that I would release the men who could not do this, without any shame upon them. Arwen and Finduilas's words haunted me, and they would not let go of me. I could not blame these men for being faint hearted in these words' presences.

Two more days passed.

We finally reached Mount Doom. Much is told of this tale, so I will not recount it in depth. I knew something then, though. I saw something in my future. I looked at the Orcs there, and the men there, and thought about who we all really were. It was then that I knew that there was something more to life than Arwen or Eowyn. There were other emotions that could sustain me besides love, upon which I had been sustained for so long. It was then that I truly saw hope.

But I still knew that I needed a queen. I could not rebuild Minas Tirith alone, and the men would be uncomfortable with my age. Few yet have the blood of Numenor in their veins, and those who do, do not herald it, for people are predisposed not to trust you. They will want me to have a wife and child as soon as possible. In fact, this would probably be the case if I were merely fifteen. Anything can happen, and a king has more enemies than anyone else in the country.

So who would my choice be? Would I wait a little longer, and then marry someone I didn't know?

No, for I still had Eowyn. She loved me, and I needed her, what was so wrong with pretending that I still loved her? Was it even a pretence? My mind told me yes, but my heart told me no. Or was it the opposite? I had never had to separate the two, in all of my eighty-eight years. How could I learn now? Even should I tell the difference, which voice was I to follow? My mother always said that I should follow my heart, but a heart has no logic. That's what the mind is good at. So shouldn't I logically follow my mind?

Mind, however, that these were not my thoughts on the battlefield. These were my musings from long rides to the battlefield. I was plagued by this ghost.

Yet, I knew in my heart that Faramir, the son of my dear Finduilas, was going to trample my hopes somehow. I recognized that I should not try to predict fate when there was such a wild card as Faramir. I knew utterly nothing about the boy, but I knew that he had a strength in him that I did not have. He knew what to say in those long moments that seem to never end. He knew what not to say in those long moments. He was natural at this kind of thing. I could read it in his eyes.

Yet, I remembered a conversation that I had had with his brother, Boromir. "Be wary of the shrewd," he said. "For they hide their truest and purest selves beneath layers of darkness and confusion."

I had asked him what had made him say that, and of whom he thought when he gave me such advice, though I thought that I already knew. Galadriel. He did not trust her. She reminded him of the darker parts of the people he knew. She was a constant reminder of anything outside of the at that time safe prison of the mind. There, when we were in Lothlorien, we could imagine that our families were alive and happy, just waiting for us to return, but one look into her eyes would dash all of that, for her eyes had acquired the watery elements of her Mirror. We knew when we looked into those beautiful, mysterious eyes, that not all was well. All was just as dark and gloomy as ever. Galadriel was the Queen of Darkness, robed in the Mantle of Light. For she had seen many things beyond our imaginations.

Indeed, Galadriel. He thought upon her when he spoke those words, that went without speaking, however, he also told me that he had thought upon his father and his mother and his brother. They claimed darkness as their hearts' abodes. They shrouded themselves with mystery, because they were afraid of what another would find should he look deep enough. They had a gift of sight similar to that of the Elves. This gift had turned against them, however, as they did not want other to see in them what they saw in others. Boromir told me how he remembered his father staring at his brother for hours, but he could not break down his son's mental defenses.

So, thus, I knew that perhaps Faramir was not natural at this type of thing. He pretended to be. I wondered deep down who he really was, for the man so puzzled me. Was he a liar as I had come to believe? A dark man with a dark past, who would go to any lengths to hide it? I could not see who he was, or what his past might have been, but I knew in my heart that he was different from what all knew of him.

I wondered if Faramir would be able to withstand Galadriel's eyes. I did not know him well enough then, but I can tell you now that he could. There is only one living being who can break into that mind without Faramir wishing it. Again, the name is that of Eowyn. She who could control thousands of lives just by looking at them, for her gaze commanded obedience. It was she who had captured the captain of Gondor's heart.

However, this I did not know at the time. I pondered him nearly as frequently as I pondered Eowyn and Arwen. Those were the three people who could and would change my life completely. Those were the three people, along with myself, who play the major roles in the story that my dear reader reads, and who have written it down in their own words so that others may truly understand our trials.

More than that, now we understand each other's trials, and why we did what we did. However, that is speaking of now, and not then, so I shall now beg the reader to allow me to return to the story.

My mind was blank when we reached the Fields of Cormallen. I attributed this to shock from defeating Sauron at last, with whom I had struggled for so long. But I knew that my brain had become numb because of the silent war that had been waged. Neither side had yet won, but the two thoughts seemed to have made a treaty, and I no longer suffered being a battlefield for their struggle.

Thus, I had a satisfying peace when I reached the fields. No confusion plagued me, and no doubt shrouded me. But soon, I again came to the struggle, for I did not know whether I should summon Eowyn or not. I did not know how I felt, and I did not want to mislead her. Though, I reasoned, I had already misled her by asking her to marry me. But that was of no matter now. I could still fix that if I decided that I should.

But soon, that dilemma was too solved, for Eomer summoned his sister himself. I did not have to blame myself for either lifting her hopes or dashing them without due reason. She would come for her brother, and I could take my time in judging what the best path would be for me to follow.

But, as usual, I was wrong. So very wrong. At first I feared that she was dead, and then I wondered if she had not received the letter. But then, perhaps she was not well enough to travel. Or maybe she had met someone else in the city…

This was the thought that began to plague me. I knew that if it was the case, and I had become convinced that it was, then she would leave me alone. For Eowyn had already proven herself uncaring to duties and promises. If it did not suit her heart, she would not obey.

Perhaps this was the right thing to do. It was an uncommon stance in life, to be sure, but perhaps it was not wrong. I knew that part of the reason why Arwen left was because she did not follow this idea, and she was a dutiful daughter. She did as she knew was expected of her, and even wanted it because it was what the others around her wanted.

But my dear Eowyn would do what she felt was right for her. For, as she thought, what would be the point in living life if you do not live it?

I knew that she was going to abandon me, and I know wished that I had never left the city. I knew I did not have a choice, but I still blamed myself. Perhaps it was the fault of my doubts of my own faithfulness. I knew that I had had those thoughts, for I have just filled up several pages of such doubts. I could not reconcile with myself what my feelings were before, but now they were as clear as day. I needed Eowyn. I needed her so much that I could not stand the idea of her not being with me. I waited with great impatience the moment that we would leave these fields and I could again gaze upon her. She had rescued me from the darkest time of my life, but now she threw me into turmoil at the thought of her infidelity.

I shouldn't have worried, but I hadn't a choice. I was so terrified of the prospect of seeing her every day in the city, and knowing that she was not mine. It was utterly horrifying to think of.

My only comfort was remembering how long she had stood by my side, even before I welcomed her there. I knew that she would not turn me away so easily, despite my fears that she would. I knew that I shouldn't worry. Yet I still did. Was there any reason for this? No. I would cease it, I told myself. So I did for the most part. For some reason, this worry was much easier to let go of than the previous one, probably because it was not the cause of so much guilt.

But sometimes, late at night, I would remember my mother telling me that the worst thing that you can think of will always happen, so never think of bad things. Would I be the cause of Eowyn turning me away? I told myself that I was being silly, and I would then fall asleep.

Yet, maybe I wasn't so silly after all.


	8. Part Eight: Eowyn

Pickled Freak: Thank you for your review! I really didn't expect it! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! THANK YOU! (Take a cookie!)

Okay, I'm not sure if there was something wrong with my previous chapter, or if nobody got around to reviewing, or if nobody saw the chapter or what. But I'm continuing this. I would like some feedback, though. Love, Rana

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Seven: Eowyn

"Yes" I had said, and "yes," I had lied. There was no love in my body any longer. Of course I didn't love Aragorn. But I still lied. I knew that I would never suffer again with Aragorn. I had been held under Grima's sway for so long that his illusions began coming true for me. I realized that I would be alone for the rest of my life. I convinced myself at all costs that this was love, had to be love. I would not be left as Grima said I would. I would have someone whom I loved and who loved me. I told myself that, but I knew that it was not true. I would never have true love. I would just have those domestic comforts that anyone might have. But there was nothing in my cards that read a chance for freedom in true happiness.

I was very naïve then. I did not know what true love was. I did not realize that true love would not signify an end to troubles and toils. In fact, there was nothing that it could do better than bring more complications in to my life. However, I could tell the difference between true love and my emotions towards Aragorn. They were severely different. The problem was that I had trouble forcing myself to listen to my heart.

These ponderings are those that I have discovered after many years of ponderings. At the time, I didn't give it a thought. I knew that I loved Aragorn. I had loved him for so long. I knew I felt something for him. What could it be but love?

But someone taught me differently. Someone forced me to look deep down, and discover what was truly there. He could not do it for me, but he could force me to do it. For he was wise for his thirty-five years. Sometimes, I wondered if he be wiser than Aragorn. But I wasn't one to say, for I was there, surrounded by these awe-inspiring people, and I could not judge which was the greatest of them all. However, I could judge that I was not among them.

When I told Merry that I did love Aragorn, he merely sighed and nodded his head. "Then I suppose you do, milady. Have you told Faramir of your engagement to Strider?"

I was surprised by this strange change of subject. I was discovering that for some reason, men didn't like remaining on one topic. Of course, the topic wasn't really all that different, but it seemed random at the time.

"Of course I have, I told him this morning."

"Of course, of course. I just…I thought that I should double check."

I nodded my understanding without really understanding. Why on earth would he care if Faramir knew? Why on earth would Faramir care? I decided to watch my new acquaintance—I hardly dared call him a friend, as all my friends die immediately—more carefully.

I rose from the dinner table, finally exhausted. It took a lot to tire me, even in my weakened state. I would still lie awake for hours and think upon my past, present and future. What I had decided was that my past was horrible, my present was void of life, and my future was beautiful. I was wrong, of course. My past wasn't horrible, it merely had some bad parts to it, along side of the good. My present wasn't void, it was just as full as anything could be. And my future wasn't beautiful. It was like my past and present. For, no matter how many changes I have made in my life, it always remains partially good and partially bad. Sometimes, I wonder what would have happened if I made a different choice, but then I know that there would be wonderful moments along with the horrible ones. At the time I measured which life would have more horrible moments, or more happy ones, I can't remember for sure, and then made my decision based on that. There's no way to know if I was wrong or right, but I wasn't either by much.

Merry rose too and said, "I will leave you now, Eowyn. Perhaps we will see each other again tomorrow."

I nodded. It was all so natural. It was as though those men were not at war. As though they were here, and not gone for to never return. Nothing seemed out of place when I spoke to people. They were so settled with this idea that we were alone. But when I was by myself, I felt the pain lingering in my heart and I wondered why it was so easy to let go.

Merry turned, as if reading my thoughts, and said, "Eowyn, I miss them too. We all await those who may never return. But we also must hope. There's no point in not hoping. We might as well die if there was no hope. Think about it this way, when you think about death, do you ever wonder what you might, just might, miss? If you do, there's something left to miss still. Hope, Eowyn. Hope."

I smiled at him. That was it. There was still hope. Maybe, at least. After all, suppose we lost and everything was hopeless. At least I would know what happened. There wasn't any point in worrying about it. It wouldn't change anything. I wouldn't be able to come up with any different ideas for escape, for there wouldn't be anything left to do. What I was really worried about was winning and Aragorn and Eomer not coming back. Then I wouldn't have a life. But perhaps something would come along after that. I had not had a life before, so surely everything will get better.

It was funny, really, how I was balancing my entire fate on Chance. There wasn't a way in the world that we all would actually survive, but I still rested my heart on the very tip of the knife. It would cost me a lot, I knew, but I couldn't do anything about it. There was nowhere left to turn. At least not until something different happened.

Merry smiled at me and left me to continue my thoughts. I fell asleep that night, a little more hopeful that everything might work out after all.

However, I woke the next morning as pessimistic as ever. _What was I thinking?_ I wondered. I knew that we wouldn't make it out of this alive. At least not all of us. Probably not any of us.

I wanted to walk in the gardens, for they had come to relax me, but I was afraid to know who else might lurking beneath those bowers and trees.

I sighed. I shouldn't have been afraid of Faramir, but I was. I didn't know what to say when I was around him. He was so much more than I was, yet I wanted to prove myself to him. It was like an unattainable goal. Yet he didn't seem to notice this. He was so comfortable in my presence that it almost made me relax. Sometimes it did, in fact. But then, something would happen, and I would see something from him that I never thought to see. He was so beyond any experience with a human being that I've ever had. I didn't know why. I still don't know why he is so different. It has been suggested to me that perhaps I had never really had a true and deep relationship with another person before, so I never had recognized it in others. This could be true, but what about my brother, and my cousin? Theodred and my relationship ran deep. And of course no one knows Eomer as well as I. Some people think that he's crazy, but I don't think so. He suffered much, but he doesn't seem crazy to me. Some think he's special, and that might be closer to true. However, perhaps something just happened, and I saw him for everything he was, like he did me.

I remained indoors all morning, but in the afternoon, a nurse came to me and said that the Warden wanted me to get some fresh air, for it had seemed to be doing me well until I stopped going out, when I had begun to reacquire my previous pale pallor.

I shook my head. "No, I do not want to go out," I said. "I would rather stay inside and rest, for I am very tired. Yesterday put such a strain on me."

The girl opened her eyes wide, probably appalled that she could have suggested such a strain for me, and fled the room.

I watched her leave, and then I turned back to my little fire.

An hour passed before the girl came back in, followed by the Warden.

"Miss, I am told that yesterday wearied you so greatly that you are unable to walk today?"

"I said that it wearied me so that I have no wish to walk today."

The Warden bent and checked my pulse, my heart, and felt my head.

"I sense no sign of such drastic and sudden fatigue. I believe it better for you to walk again, milady. I think you'll feel better and more energized."

I bit the inside of my lip. There didn't seem to be a way to get out of this. So I just nodded and smiled thinly and weakly. "Very well. I will walk for a short time at your request in the gardens."

"Good. Lai shall accompany you."

The girl curtseyed at the Warden as he left, but she did not depart herself. Instead, she smiled at me expectantly. I figured that she must have been Lai.

I rose from the table chair that I had set beside the fire due to the discomfort of the actual fireside chair. I walked over to where my cloak hung, and wrapped it around myself.

"Shall we go then, Lai?" I asked.

She smiled and nodded.

We walked for a short while in silence before I had the odd urge to speak. Usually, I didn't care for words, but I wanted to at least hear someone talking, if not talk myself.

"Tell me about your family, Lai."

"Well, my father was a Gondorian soldier and my mother was a Haradrim. She was of high birth, but the civil war overthrew most of the great houses, including ours. She was very young, I think not yet twenty. Her name is Kulta. She was a refugee at a came on the boarder, and my father was stationed there to protect it. They fell in love, but they never had a chance to marry. My father died before a year had passed. But my mother was already pregnant with me. He died three months before I was born.

"You see, the Haradrim are not as strict about things like that. If a woman has a child before she is married, the father of the child is expected to marry the woman, for that would be disrespectful and wicked, but it is not forbidden to have children before wedlock. They don't see a reason to require it, as long as the men are carefully watched and do not abandon the child and mother.

"Anyway, when I was eight, my mother sent me to Gondor to look for work, and I think to protect me. She's still fighting for her birthright I think. That is, unless she's dead."

I was astonished by this amazing story. I was fond of the woman immediately. "How long ago was it that you last saw your mother?"

"I saw her when I was ten, and that was three years ago. I'm thirteen now."

Again, I was surprised. She was quite young to be working at a healer's. I realized how talented she must be.

"And you, milady? What is your story?"

Where would I begin? I had so much to tell.

"I…"

But I was interrupted before I could begin. I saw a figure up ahead, whom we were approaching steadily. I could tell that it was a man, and he was tall and slender. _Not like his brother,_ I thought. I wondered at this, for I had never even met Boromir. Yet somehow I knew. I knew how different Faramir must have been from his brother. I also knew that this was the man whom I was approaching. Faramir, I mean, not Boromir. I braced myself for the moment when I would come upon him. Lai looked up at me, but did not ask any questions. My jaw was clenched firmly, and I suppose that she thought that I was pained by my memories. But she did not interrupt my thoughts. She knew that I would not tell her if I didn't want to.

But when I saw him, closer, I realized how much he must have suffered in the last day. His skin was paler than mine ever had been, and I his eyes were hard and sad. He was dressed all in black. I realized what was missing then. Faramir always had a little bit of hope glimmering in his eyes. now it was gone. Even when he seemed sad there was still hope. Now, I suppose that he didn't have anything for which to hope. His entire family was dead, and all he had left was merely the position that he did not want. _Like me,_ I thought. My family was dead, plus Aragorn, and I was left to take up Rohan. We would both rule our own countries, and we would both know the same things. That this was not where we belonged, and we have nothing else left.

I left Lai's side and went over to Faramir. I gently rested a hand on his shoulder. He turned to me, startled.

"Eowyn?" he said, blinking away his previous thoughts. But I saw them before they disappeared from his eyes. He was thinking upon lost love. Much of it. What grief!

"Faramir, how are you?" I said, unable to think of anything else.

"Well. Well. Thank you for asking….And you milady?" he asked.

I smiled at him. "I'm very well, thank you. Would you care to walk with us, Faramir?"

He looked behind us. I followed his gaze and saw that Lai had withdrawn into the background. She did not seem comfortable with the idea of walking with Faramir and me, so I let it go.

"I would very much like to walk with you."

"Good," was all I said. We smiled at each other and began walking. I glanced over at him upon occasion, and noticed him doing the same. We walked in silence, but it was a companionable silence. For a moment, I felt that he had let go of his sorrow and was just content to be with me. I did the same. I did not worry about Aragorn, Eomer, Theoden, Theodred, my parents or anything else. I focused on how happy I was with him. And I was happy. Happier than I had been in a long time, because I knew that Faramir suffered as much as I did. He was left at home when he could fight as well as the next man. He had lost most of his family and the rest would not probably last another month. For a moment, we could be two of the same person.

Yet at the same time, we were still different, and our differences could be felt acutely. I knew that before he met me, Faramir had never given thought to the barrier that stood between women and their dreams. I knew that now that he knew me, he had given the matter some serious thought, which I had to say I appreciated. Someday, when I was married to Aragorn, I knew that I could depend on Faramir to either let me ride or not let me ride, but his decision would be built off of years of ponderings. I also guessed that he didn't approve of my actions, though I knew that he also respected me for them. There were other differences, too deep to be spoken of, but still felt by both of us.

Yet, we both knew that those differences lay between us, and we were both willing to let it be that way. We didn't try to change the other one, we just accepted that it would always be this way. We could be the same and yet different. Like the Yin Yang, which is one circle made of two pieces.

But I am sorry. That was an analogy that would not have meant anything to me at the time, for I did not think of us in that way, so I shall continue without further interruptions, I hope.

I glanced over at my companion, again wondering what it was that Merry was thinking when he spoke of Faramir. I searched his face, but I didn't find anything until he looked at me. He turned, having felt my eyes upon him, to look into my eyes. I gasped at the intensity there, and I realized that maybe we weren't the same. Maybe his purpose in life was very different from mine. But then his gaze softened, and I realized that his thoughts merely ran deep when there was no one to rescue him from the rapids.

"Faramir…" I said, wanting so badly to feel that sense of companionship that I had felt earlier.

He turned away from me, shaking his head. "I'm sorry, Eowyn. It's just all so much. Everything that happened yesterday, I felt that I lost all reason for hope. I didn't want to see the sun anymore. I didn't even want to see the stars, who normally comfort me. Nothing seemed worth it anymore."

"Why do you love the stars so?"

He didn't answer for a moment, but then said, "I don't know. I have just always looked up and wondered at their brilliance. They are not like the sun; they are gentle. Yet they are not like the moon; they are more brilliant than that. They glitter and glow, but they are soft and slow too. They are like little crystals rather than a…a…" He searched for his words, and did not seem to be able to find them. "I suppose I also have read so many stories about them, and my love for them is influenced a little by that."

I nodded, thinking about what he said. There wasn't much I could say about the subject so we lapsed back into silence.

"Tell me about your childhood," he whispered after a long silence. It was a common demand for him, but I wasn't expecting it. Surely he had heard enough about my childhood to discern that I had been an unruly, stubborn child who had not grown up to be any better. Why was he still interested?

I cast around for something interesting that I could tell him, before giving up. "What do you want to hear?"

He hesitated, and then said, "Your favorite pastime."

"Surely you know what it was," was all I could say.

"But tell me about it."

"I liked to ride."

He sighed and gave up. I guess I didn't give him the answer that he wanted, but I felt that it was rather unfair, as I had struggled to find out what he wanted to know, and he was being very vague about it.

"I am tired now. I think I shall retire now."

He glanced at me, startled. "Eowyn, I…"

"Good afternoon, Faramir."


	9. Part Nine: Faramir

EllowynTinuviel: ANGST, ANGST, ANGST! WE LOVES ANGST!

Serina: I like A/E too, but I am a hopeless F/E fan. Yes, Eomer needs someone. I personally prefer Lothiriel for him (the daughter of Imrahil, cousin of Faramir. She's who he marries in the books), but I also like reading a lot of OCs for Eomer. I'm glad you like the POVs; It's one of the greatest complements, as that was one of my highest goals.

Rebby-Eowyn: Thanks so much for the review. It came in right away and was greatly appreciated.

Bandaid Bandit: Thank you so much for your review. You really expressed that everything that I was hoping to accomplish in this story has been done. I really wanted it to be very thoughtful. Thank you so much! (also, because you asked so sweetly and were so nice, I'll post this sooner than I had planed. I was going to give it a little longer to let everything die down, but I won't now).

Ok, some notes. 1. Please review. I REALLY appreciate it. 2. I wondered, for readers of Cyrano de Bergerac, if in certain places of this chapter Eowyn is too Roxanne-y. I just finished reading Cyrano, and I felt that she was. 3. I just wanted to say that upon rereading the part where Faramir declares his love to Eowyn in the real book, I have realized how completely he understands her. Thus, I stressed the point in this chapter.

**IMPORTANT**: In Faramir's note, the "L You Si" is supposed to be crossed out. Fanfiction didn't keep the cross-outs, so I wanted to tell you so that it would make sense. Sorry for the long Author's note.

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Nine: Faramir

She walked away from me, and as I stared after her I realized that I had done something terribly wrong. I recognized that my heart was not really in the conversation, but I didn't really expect her to think that it would be. But of course she didn't know half of my thoughts.

I continued on my walk, staring at the gravel. I found myself fascinated with watching which tiny stones ended up under my boot, and which ones did not. It was a pathetic thing to ponder, I suppose, but I didn't care. It held me spellbound me. Many things upon which I think others would find stupid or trivial. I suppose I was just different from everyone else.

I continued like this for some time before some small part of my brain recognized that mine were not the only footsteps. At first, I disregarded the thought without even thinking about it. Then, the thought registered. Eowyn! Was my first thought. But I knew that it could not be she. For she was angry with me for some reason beyond my comprehension.

I continued walking, listening for the steps. I did not want to turn until the right moment, lest I frighten someone away whom I did not wish to frighten. Slowly, at a rate so slow that whoever followed me could not have detected my movements until it was too late, I turned to look behind me. As my eyes fell upon my follower, she stopped in her tracks. It was the girl who had been walking with Eowyn before she came up to me. The girl blushed and started to turn away. I turned my head back to in front of me and continued walking, listening for the girl's footsteps.

_Crunch, crunch. _I was relieved to hear them. I knew that she followed me for a reason, as she did not seem comfortable in my presence. I did not dare to look back at her, for all that I wanted to. But I did slow my steps in order to hear hers better. She however, did not slow, and soon she was walking just behind me. I wondered if I dared speak to her, as she seemed so frightened of me. But I didn't have to worry long, for she spoke to me.

"My lord, steward. Might I have a word with you?"

I looked down and back at her, smiling. "I'm not a steward yet. Nor am I a lord. I am just a soldier. The youngest son of a servant of the realm, who should have inherited nothing, but was fated to do more than he was prepared for."

She just looked at me for a moment, wondering what to say. Then she said, "All right, what do you want me to call you?"

"My name. Faramir. There is no use for a title when the man or woman bearing it does not deserve it."

"You're saying that I should not call the King Your Highness if I don't think that he deserves his position?"

"Well, first of all, you should find out if he deserves his position. Sometimes our first impressions can be mistakes. Second of all, I wouldn't recommend doing so with those who think that they deserve their titles. However, if they did not, I would silently applaud you for such bravery."

The girl smiled up at me, and moved to walk beside me, rather than behind me.

"What's your name, child?" I asked.

"Lai."

"And how old are you?"

She smiled at me and answered proudly, "Thirteen."

"Ah, well then you're hardly a child, are you?"

She shook her head, grinning. I couldn't help but forget all my earlier trials.

"What do you like to do, Lai?"

She thought for a moment, before she answered, "I like to read, weave, and heal people. That's why I work here. They needed someone young working here, and I was the most eager of the candidates. I absolutely loved the idea of this job. I also help by making bandages and things, and I look after the patients and keep them occupied. It's a lot of work, but I love it so much. I like reading to the patients, too. They all say that I do such good voices. My mother didn't think that there was any point in my learning to read, but she was wrong. I have gotten so much out of my reading experiences. Books can take you anywhere and everywhere. It's like Aladdin and his carpet. You know?"

I grinned, remembering having said so many of those same things myself. But then I remembered how scorned my thoughts had been. Lai's thoughts would not be scorned. I would see to that.

"Yes, I know exactly what you mean. I feel the same way. I always read more than anyone else I knew. When I was young, I didn't care what happened around me. What's the point in fighting? I would think to myself. Fighting never gets you anywhere, and it's so dull. Why doesn't everyone just sit and read books all day. Then they wouldn't have to fight and take over other places and such. It would be an utter utopia. I didn't understand that the reason most people fight is because there are people out there who don't want to sit around and read all day. They want to control other people, for some strange reason. And they don't care what the stories say. There really are villains. And there are also really heroes. It isn't just stories. There are people like my brother who will sacrifice everything to destroy the enemy. But then there are people like me who just can't bring themselves to give it all up."

Lai looked up at me, seeing the sorrow in my face. "What makes you think that? Surely you can do something. You may not be any good at killing people, but you can do something, can't you?"

I shook my head. "I'm a scholar. I'm not even like you. You enjoy doing so much. I can do other things, but I prefer reading and writing poetry to almost everything."

She smiled at me. "What about not killing people?"

"Huh?" I said.

"You're good at not killing people. Somebody has to be good at that, otherwise, everyone would be the villains who don't like to sit and read all day. You're going to be one of the primary leaders of this country. While the King is out trying to smother evil, you'll be here trying to grow good. It's like two gardeners. The King is the weed puller, and you are the planter. And while a garden might not be pretty with a bunch of weeds in it, it sure isn't pretty without the flowers."

I wondered where this girl had come from, for I realized at that touching speech that she was very special.

" Who taught you to think like that?"

She smiled again. "I did."

I was truly astonished by this child. I hoped that if I ever had a child, she would grow up to be much like Lai. Of course, I might as well not dream about it, as I knew that it could never happen, for my only love was already out of my reach when I met her.

"Lai, did you want to talk to me about something?"

She frowned, and hesitated. "I did, but I'm not sure what I wanted to talk to you about. I just felt that maybe I could help. I was watching your walk with Lady Eowyn, and I noticed some things. I noticed that you love her, and that she does not love you. I also noticed that you have a mutual misunderstanding, because neither of you are sure as to how to proceed with this relationship. You recognize it at what we call love, but she only sees it as a strange bond that drew you together. I don't think that the Lady knows that what she's looking for exists. I don't even know if she knows what she's looking for. She wants freedom. But not just any freedom. She wants a special freedom that will protect her from all the horrors that she suffered before. She sees her life as two. Her old life and her new life. Right now, she thinks that she's just transferring. But if she doesn't wise up soon, she'll be transferring for a very, very long time. She wants love and happiness, too. She wants someone to hold her when she can't go on, and to let her free when she needs release. I don't know if anyone can do this, but if someone can, it would be you. Perhaps she needs to compromise a little. I don't know…"

I had listened to what she said, and recognized it all to be true. "But how do I help her?"

"I don't know if you can. I just know that you two see each other in a way that no one else can see you. You may see the world differently, but you see each other the same. If you can't save each other, I think you're lost forever."

I glanced down at her, surprised. She returned my gaze steadily. "Oh, yes. Eowyn's not the only one who needs help."

I turned my head away, and thought about this. Yes, I supposed I did need saving, of some sort. Clearly there was going to be no going on for me if Eowyn wasn't part of my life. "You're right, Lai."

"I know!" she said cheerily. Then she began to dash down the road in the other direction.

"Lai!" I called out after her.

"I have to report now! I have duty!"

I watched her run away, and then found myself alone again. I decided to continue walking, as I didn't really want to go inside. Instead, I thought upon Eowyn and what Lai had said about her. It was all true. The only think about which I was unsure was whether this was true love, or if it was just something that my troubled mind had manifested into something more than it was. But it didn't really matter yet. First I had to figure out how I could help Eowyn, even if there was no way to help myself.

I thought back to our earlier conversation. _Why do you love the stars so?_ She had asked. I wondered if I could have said anything that angered her then. Surely not, but I had hardly spoken besides then. I concentrated on this moment, unable to think of what I could have said that could have angered her. Perhaps she did not want to tell any more stories about her childhood. Perhaps I had asked for too many of those by now. I couldn't help but be intrigued by her past, though. I didn't know what I could have done.

_You two see each other in a way that no one else can see you. _Was it possible that she had sensed my disappointment with her lack of enthusiasm about telling about her past? Yes, that was probably it. Yet, I didn't see why that would make her angry. But I knew now that it was surely that, for whatever reason. Eowyn was strange at times.

I continued walking until after dark. I found myself on the wall, staring out at the stars. Oh the beautiful stars. I stared out at them for some time, pondering.

_Why do you love the stars so? _The thought came suddenly. There were so many answers to that question. So many. But as I stared at the dark blue velvet sky with the tiny silver lights embedded within, I realized the main reason. And of course! I wondered why I had not thought of it before. I raced down the narrow stairs back into the garden, and rushed over to the houses. I would ensure that I saw Eowyn the next day. It was vital.

The next morning, I waited for her to come into the garden. I leaned on a large hazel tree near the steps that led up to the wall. Perhaps the tree could give me a little guidance in what I did next, being the tree of wisdom.

Eowyn did come, as I expected. She was accompanied by Lai again. The day before, I had been jealous of Eowyn's ability to talk to the girl, for she was so shy of me. Now I understood the girl a little better. I no longer suffered those thoughts.

"Good day, Eowyn, Lai," I said.

"Good day, Faramir," Eowyn responded, surprised to see me.

"Good day, would you care to join us on our walk?" Lai interjected. Of course, she wanted me to talk to Eowyn, I should have expected that she would help me.

"Thank you, I would be happy to," I said.

But I didn't know how to do what I was planning on doing. It seemed too forward to do something like that. I knew how minimal my time was, but I struggled to find a way to bring the subject up. Finally, after I had not said anything for nearly a quarter of an hour, Eowyn asked, "What is that on your arm?"

I looked down at my arm, unsure as to what she was talking about, and then realized. "Oh this? It's just a cloak. I thought…I had hoped to…I actually wanted to give it to you." There I had said it, as hard as it was.

She pointed to herself. "To me? Why? I already have a cloak, I'm wearing it right now," she said, confused.

"Oh, yes, of course. I know. I just wanted you to have this one. It used to be my mother's, and you have been the only woman that I have met whom I thought deserving of this. I wanted to give it to you now. Perhaps it will partially answer the question you asked earlier."

I unfolded the cloak and shook it out for her. I thought I heard her gasp, but when I looked at her, she was as emotionless as ever she had been. She just smiled coolly and said, "Thank you, Faramir, I appreciate this gift, but I cannot accept. It is too much. But I thank you nonetheless."

I knew that my disappointment showed on my face, but I couldn't care less. I had wanted so badly for her to have this, and now she wouldn't take it. What could I do to convince her? It was supposed to be a gift for someone special. This was the most special person I knew. She had so affected me. I knew that there wouldn't be anyone else left in the world for me to give this cloak to.

"No, please take it…" I said.

"Faramir, thank you, but no. I cannot accept."

I nodded, realizing that she didn't want the cloak. "Very well, if you insist," I said. I lowered my eyes to the ground and refolded the cloak. "Shall we continue then?"

She nodded.

I glanced back at Lai, who smiled at me encouragingly. Her eyes told me that I could do anything if I really wanted to. She truly is the most special child I have met. Well, so far anyway. There is another child that may perhaps surpass her yet.

Soon after, Eowyn left me, and went back into the houses. I watched her go, and then continued my walk alone, for Lai had followed Eowyn. I passed the hazel by which I had been waiting earlier, and an idea suddenly came to me. I pulled the pin that I had stuck in the cloak out, and took the little piece of paper that had been attached to the cloak by the pin. I crumpled it, and then took a new sheaf out of a pocket of my tunic—I keep paper on me at all times, think me crazy, but it's true—and tore a little bit off. On this, I scribbled a new note.

_Eowyn,_

_ I cannot keep this, for it is not mine. I was supposed to give it to someone, and not let the chance pass me up. You needn't take this, but I ask you to again. If you do not want it, leave it here where perhaps the wind will take ownership of it._

_ L You Si_

_ faramir_

I reread my note. I regretted the mess above my name, but I hadn't known what to write. I wanted to say something that would move her, but I didn't want her to be offended, so I decided to say "Your friend," but that even that was too expecting. Did she consider me a friend? So I decided instead on just "Sincerely." But I couldn't write that, for it was far too distant. Finally, for lack of anything better, I just signed my name and left it at that.

I pinned the note to the cloak and then hung the cloak on a hazel branch. Perhaps she would find it the next day.

I waited by my window until late the next day. She hadn't come out yet still. I wanted to scream her name out so loudly that she would want to go into the garden. But no, she wouldn't come until the moment that she wanted to, which might have been never.

But lo! At sunset, I saw her going out the door and into the gardens. She walked for some time until she came at last to the hazel tree. I feared that she would pass it without seeing it, for she had been walking with her eyes downcast for the entire time, but something must had changed then, for she glanced up. I thought, I hoped, that I saw her smile. She reached up and touched it, softly. I saw then that for which I had been looking all this time. A sign of gentleness, a sign of love. Bittersweet memories drifted across her face, and I realized that I would give anything just to kiss her at that moment. I didn't care if I had no other moments, just if I could have her for one second. Half a second even!

But then she pulled her hand back and turned towards my window. I drew back quickly, and I don't think that she saw me. She searched the house for any sign of something—probably me.

Then she turned back to the cloak and gently lifted it off of the branch, careful not to tear it. She turned it over in her hands, until she found the note. She was turned towards me for this, so I was able to view her face. I waited anxiously. Her expression went from somewhat indifferent to caring and soft. She reached the end of the note, and laughed quietly to herself. She shook her head, and then carefully unpinned the note. I couldn't see what she did with it, but the next moment it was gone from her hands. Then, she pulled the cloak around her shoulders and continued walking in the garden.

To see her in that cloak may have been the greatest thing that had happened to me at that point. I could suddenly remember my mother again, but not just my mother, I could see something more in Eowyn that I had never seen before. Everything seemed so clear at that moment. I didn't question anything that I had done or was going to do then. I knew what was right and wrong. However, it only lasted a short time, for the sun went down, and everything was dark again.

The next two days, it rained, and then I was released from the Houses. I didn't want to leave, but I knew I ought to. I had to take up the responsibilities that I had abandoned due to my injury.

I couldn't stop thinking about Eowyn. I loved her, and I knew it. She was everything to me. I didn't think that I could go on without her. Of course, she'd always be near, and that is the reason I could not say anything to her. She was going to be my Queen. It pained me to realize that she would never actually want to walk with me, a mere servant of the house, if not a noble one, again. She would lock up that cloak, maybe even give it away or sell it. It would be gone forever. I would never see it again.

There were times when, overcome by these miserable thoughts, I would lay my head down on my desk and cry like any child. It felt good to cry, I hadn't for so long. But then I would remember everything I had to do that day, and I would sit up and start working again.

It was the first of May ere Aragorn and his men returned, victorious. The people celebrated the coming of the King, and in their revelry, I found a period during which I was doing nothing. So I went to the Houses, hoping to see Eowyn again before she returned to Rohan with her brother. As I entered the garden, I saw her there, sitting on the bench and staring at the daffodils. I came up to her quietly, wanting to observe her for as long as possible without having to face her. I noticed with great bliss that she wore my mother's cloak. I came to stand next to her, but still behind her.

_Should I interrupt this blissful silence in which I can pretend? _But what I had come to realize is that pretending didn't do anyone any good. It only made it hurt more in the end. It was better to face reality with a realistic take on the world. I wasn't going to mislead myself anymore. I decided then to declare my feelings for her. I couldn't live the rest of my life—particularly with my Numenorean blood—without knowing if it was all a mistake and we could have been happy

"Eowyn…" I said tentatively.

She didn't even turn. She closed her eyes and said, "I wondered when you'd come. I've been waiting."

"Really?" I said, taken aback.

"Of course. I've been thinking a lot about you since you left. About us. Ara…"

"Eowyn."

"What is it?"

"I'm not Aragorn."

She spun around and leapt from her seat on the bench, surprised. "Oh! Faramir! I'm sorry, I didn't even think. I should have recognized your voice, shouldn't I? I just didn't recognize it. I'm sorry."

I just nodded sadly. She hadn't remembered that I existed. How great of a chance did that mean that I had of her loving me? Not very high, that was for sure.

"Faramir…are you all right?"

"Aye, I'm fine, thank you."

"Did you want to talk to me?"

I paused and then shook my head. "No, I just wanted to see you again. I found a free moment and you were the only one with whom I wanted to spend it."

"Oh, I see. Well, would you like to walk with me?"

I nodded.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded also. She started walking down the path, I followed her, remaining a step behind so that she couldn't see my face unless she actually turned around. This way, no matter what she said, no matter what my reaction, she'd never know that it hurt me.

She spoke nervously about many things, but I didn't hear most of them. I knew what made her nervous. She was thinking about Aragorn and his return. Would he still want her? What if he had thought better of the whole affair? Even more importantly, what if she had thought better of it? What if _she_ didn't want _him_? I knew these were the thoughts flying through her head at lightning speed so that she did not even have the opportunity to hear them and realize what they might be telling her.

By now, I could read her thoughts as plainly as any book I had ever read. I saw her for everything that she was. Somewhere inside I told myself that it was impossible to know someone so completely, for even that person did not know his or herself that well. Yet, I felt that I knew her. She could convey her thoughts through her eyes, and I could read them. I didn't know if she knew that I could read them, but I knew that I could.

_This must be love, right?_ I thought to myself. _When two people come together, and they can understand each other in such a way, is that not love? If not, what is? Is love when two people need someone and so they turn to the first person they find? Or is it when two people are there for each other, no matter if the other one needs something or not? Surely the latter!_

"Eowyn, what is your definition of love?" I asked, interrupting her. I didn't even notice that I had said it until she glanced back at me, surprised.

"Love is what ties people together, I think. Why?"

"Why do you not know? You are marrying Aragorn, yet you do not know?"

"Until I see if this works, and if I am right, I will not know. Do you not agree?"

"What will you do if you find that you were wrong?"

"Live with the consequences of my choice. Why are you asking me these questions?"

"What if the consequences are cages, your greatest loathing?"

"Then I will deal with it, for I have chained myself. Are you ever going to answer my questions?"

"Have you thought about whether marrying Aragorn is a chain that you place on yourself?"

"No. Are you going to proceed in ignoring my questions?"

"No. When I find one that I'm willing to answer, I'll answer it. Now, why did you not think about this?"

"Because I didn't. Why do you care?"

"Because I care for you."

She hesitated, unsure as to what to say, as this was the first statement that had not ended with a question. It was her turn now. I had questioned her, trying to make her understand her mistake, if indeed it was a mistake. She could do as she pleased now.

"I imagine that all marriage is a chain of some sort, don't you think? But maybe a cage of happiness and love can be a good thing," she said.

"Perhaps, but what if you are locking yourself into a cage of unhappiness?"

"But Aragorn loves me!"

"What makes you say that?"

"Because he told me so. He asked me to marry him!"

"But did he leave his former lover for you, or did she leave him and then he turned to you?"

"She left him, and then his eyes cleared and he realized that I was the right one."

"I'm sure that you both believe that, but how can you be sure?"

"What do you mean?"

"Is there anything in your heart that tells you that you love him and he loves you back?"

"Yes,"

"You do not hesitate."

"I needn't."

"Perhaps you would both be happier if you did."

She stopped, and closed her eyes. She even stopped walking. She completely stopped so quickly that I continued a few steps before I realized. Thus, I had drawn up next to her.

She opened her eyes and looked at me directly. Then she turned away and closed her eyes again. "Yes, I love him. I will marry him and that will be that."

I wanted to tell her how unconvinced she sounded, but I didn't dare. Instead, I said, "Then I might as well not say anything more on the subject again."

"Have you aught else to say?"

"I…I did, but I do not think it prudent of me to mention it now."

"Say, what was it?"

I did not answer, and I dropped back a few paces.

"Faramir, I want to know…"

Again, I didn't say anything. She looked at me over her shoulder, and slowly dropped back to walk next to me. "Faramir, talk to me. I won't be angry or upset by whatever you have to say, I promise."

I wanted to tell her, but I didn't think that I could. I glanced over at the Houses and glimpsed Lai looking out the window. She drew back as soon as I looked, but I was sure it was she.

"_You two see each other in a way that no one else can see you."_

_ "I don't know if anyone can do this, but if someone can, it would be you."_

_ "But if she doesn't wise up soon, she'll be transferring for a very, very long time."_

_ When two people come together, and they can understand each other in such a way, is that not love? If not, what is?_

I remembered Eowyn when she found that cloak as these words ran through my head. Lai had thought that I was the one for Eowyn. Lai was right about so many things. I thought that I was the one for Eowyn. Surely this measured up to something!

These thoughts gave me courage. "Eowyn, I know that you are to be married to Aragorn, but I love you. And deep down, I believe that you love me. We see each other for what we really are, not these masks that we display for others. Here we are our raw and true selves, for good or bad. And I love that part of you. I love every side of your complex character for exactly what it is and is not. I do not love the potential that you have of being what I want; I do not love the façade that you present to me. I love what I see through that. You, for who you really are. Do you not understand? Do you not see me for who I really am? Do you not love me?"

She looked at me, taken aback. She was unable to react for a long while, before she shook her head. "No, I love Aragorn! I cannot believe you. Aragorn is the Lord of my heart. I gave it to him long before I met you. You cannot understand…"

"Love manifests and reacts differently than we expect Eowyn. How can you say that you gave your heart to Aragorn before you met me as though that states by itself why you cannot love me?"

"Because, I will be true to him. I will not abandon him like Arwen did."

"Maybe Arwen did it for both of their own goods."

"I will be true."

"Yet, if you do not love him, is that being true, or false? I would rather have no love than a false one, Eowyn!"

She turned away from me, and went into the Houses. I closed my eyes, knowing that it was over. That was the last time I'd ever get a chance to tell her, for this was a now or never situation. My lips would be sealed forevermore.


	10. Part Ten: Aragorn

Wohoo! Ten pages! This chapter was long by a mistake. You see, it was supposed to be a filler, but then strange things just started to come out of my fingers and…

In case anyone is like me and wonders what the names used in this chapter mean, I'll go ahead and tell.

Lai: Leaf.

Rigloriwen: maiden wreathed in gold.

Iavas: Autumn

Uregien: Without thorns.

Everyone else: look it up.

Neniel: First off, cool name. I always have to mention that when I find a particularly awesome name. I was actually supposed to be Nenya, but ff wouldn't accept that. Second; Thank you for your comments! They were so encouraging! New reviewers always inspire me more than ever. As for the comma, I know. I've always had problems with commas. I feel rather competent in grammar, but punctuation… (backs away slowly) :-)

RebbyEowyn: Here we are. I'm glad you're still enjoying this. :-)

EllowynTinuviel: I'm glad you like it! Ow, sometimes shock really hurts, doesn't it!

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Ten: Aragorn

I didn't know if I could bear to see her again after the thoughts that had plagued me throughout the past month. Did I love her or not? I couldn't answer it for myself. I knew that I should speak to her, and it was the only way that I could derive the answers from my questions, but I couldn't. Instead I suffered an uncommon feeling for me: fear. Fear of an injured woman. I knew that I must be insane, but the prospect of seeing her was so utterly unspeakably mortifying that I finally had to ask Legolas for advice.

"Do I understand you correctly? You're getting married to a woman whom you cannot bear to be in sight of? You have some trouble my friend," was his response.

I just nodded miserably. I noticed Gimli approaching, but I was too upset to even wave.

"What do you plan to do?"

Gimli glanced up at his friend and said, "Mind translating?"

Legolas looked at me, and I just shrugged. He then proceeded to repeat what he had said in Common Speech.

"Do about what?"

"Aragorn's got some problems with his betrothed."

"What are they?"

"He doesn't want to even see her, even after he's been away at battle and everyone could have died. He can't find it in him to be the least be desiring to see her after his long toils."

"Hmmph."

I closed my eyes and hung my head. It really did sound pathetic when Legolas said it like that. "Very well, I'll go see her. I'll go right now."

My friends both raised their eyebrows doubtfully, and then turned away. As they walked towards the nearest pub, I heard them muttering, "Do you think he'll really do it?" "Nah." "How much are you willing to put down on that?" "My twenty gold pieces say that he won't go to her before sundown tonight…"

I did manage to procrastinate until very late in the afternoon. I insisted in my mind that it wasn't my fault, and that I was just very busy, but I knew that I had been searching for things with which to occupy myself. The people of Gondor must have thought that I was mad. Here I was, working so hard, and I had only arrived that morning. I shook my head at myself and shoved away the notes that I was reading. I had much to learn if I was to rule this city well, but I could do it another time. Now I had to deal with my personal problems.

It had been a common fault of mine, busying myself so that I wouldn't have to deal with the true current issues at hand. However, it was a common fault of many, I suspect. I would work on overcoming it, as I had for the past eighty-eight years.

I entered the Houses of Healing, and went directly to the Warden.

"The Lady Eowyn?" I asked.

"In the gardens still, I believe."

I nodded my gratitude and went out into the gardens, I walked through the maze of flowers and trees before I finally spotted, in the setting sun's golden light, an image beyond what I expected. There was Eowyn, walking with an unknown man. They were talking, though I couldn't tell what it was about. As I watched, I realized that the man was Faramir. I had wanted to get to know this man, but I had not yet gotten a chance. My only encounters with him had been when I had healed him and when he had welcomed me to Minas Tirith.

My mind flashed back to that strange thought that had occurred to me when I first met Faramir. _In some way yet unexpected, Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir, would provide an obstacle for me and something I held dear._ I shook off the crazy thought and focused on the pair in front of me. I noticed that the relationship was strained, but I also saw something that caused me jealousy. I knew then, in my heart anyway, that if Eowyn chose me over this man that it would be the mistake of her life. However, if she chose him over me, I didn't think that I would live through the announcement of their betrothal.

But I wouldn't admit this to myself. Inside, I was confident of my possession of Eowyn. We were already to be married. How could she turn away from me now? It wasn't as though Faramir and I were two competing suitors. However, fate plays a nasty hand in all of our lives. I didn't even think about how Arwen had left me. We were to be married too. Besides, after that hasty engagement, could I really blame Eowyn for recognizing something different? Not really, but inside I wanted to. I wanted to blame somebody for all the pain that love had forced me to suffer, and for some reason, I found it easy to blame Eowyn. I had never been able to blame Arwen, but I could blame her replacement.

Suddenly, the nearly picture perfect scene before me shattered like glass. Eowyn walked away from Faramir angrily, and I imagine the tears that threatened to fall from her eyes. What did this man know about Eowyn? How dare he come to her and act as though he deserved her in some way! Perhaps I did sense a little competition.

As Eowyn stormed away, she caught my eye, and hesitated, then she looked back at Faramir and threw her head into her hands and went inside. Faramir had watched her go, but when she did this his view of her had been obscured, so he had not witnessed the agony that I had witnessed. I debated about speaking to Faramir and speaking to Eowyn. I really didn't want to talk to Eowyn, especially when she was suffering such emotional grief, but I didn't think that I could handle talking to Faramir without biting his head of. Perhaps I sensed A LOT of competition. But that didn't mean that I would admit it to myself. I learned later that one of my greatest weaknesses is my pride. It truly lost me almost everything.

So I decided to go after Eowyn. Faramir glanced up at me when I began to walk, and his eyes saddened and he looked away. He then began to walk alone in the garden, with his head bent.

"Where is Lady Eowyn's room?" I asked a young woman wearing an apron when I got inside.

She looked at me warily, and then said, "I don't believe that she is in her room. She is in the gardens with Lord Faramir. You may wait here for her, for I am sure that she does not wish to be disturbed during her walk. She takes great pleasure in her time with Lord Faramir."

"No, you don't understand," I said shaking my head. "I just saw her coming inside a minute ago. She and Lord Faramir appeared to have quarreled."

The woman's eyes went wide and soft. She appeared greatly pained by this. "B…b…but how do I know w…who you are and if I should let you see her?" she protested softly.

"My name is Elessar. Eowyn is my betrothed."

The girl dropped the pot she had been holding and bowed as the ceramic shattered. "I will fetch the Warden presently. He will show you to her room."

She then ran outside. I didn't wait long before Faramir came in the door, looking a little confused about something. I stiffened immediately. He looked up at me, startled, and said, "Good evening, milord. Is there something I can do for you?"

I just shook my head tensely.

"Would you care to walk in the garden with me?"

"Actually, I am waiting for someone."

"Whom?"

"The Warden."

"For what purpose?"

"Because I wish to speak with my fiancée, Eowyn, is there something wrong with that?" I demanded angrily.

"Oh no," he said, mildly. "But I don't expect you to be able to find him before dark. I believe he is eating dinner now."

"And you're point is?"

"Visiting hours are over at dark. The gate is shut and no one can come in or leave. I am on my way out now. Would you care to walk out with me?"

"Why is this the case?" I asked as I automatically began walking with him down the hall.

He shrugged. "You have much to learn about Gondor, yet, my friend."

I tensed again when he called me his friend.

"Are you sure of this?"

"I've never actually seen it in a set law, but I am quite sure of the rules of my own country—not to mention city."

"But why?" we were now out the gates and the sun slipped down under the horizon.

"Milord, I'm just telling you what is done. There are no rules saying that no one can leave after sundown, it's just that no one does."

"You mean to tell me that I could have stayed in there?"

"If you wanted to appear disrespectful."

"Why did you tell me to leave?"

"To help you and to help a friend."

"What friend?"

"Are you saying that you would know to whom I refer if I told you?"

"No…"

"Then why do you ask?"

"I wanted to know."

"Do you still?"

"Yes."

He sighed and looked at me. "Her name is Lai."

Perhaps he has someone else, I thought. Of course he does. What made me think that this man in his mid-thirties did not have a wife, let alone a sweetheart. Yet, I noticed uneasily the lack of a gold band on his hand.

"Why did Lai not want me in there?"

"I don't know myself for sure. She just came up to me and told me to try and get you out of there."

"Do you have any ideas as to why?"

"I do."

"Why?"

He didn't answer.

I cleared my throat and he looked over at me. "I'd rather not answer that question," he said finally.

I gave up then. Shortly after, I heard him saying farewell from behind me, but when I turned he was already gone. I realized that I was going to have to be careful around this man, for he too had been raised with the skills of a ranger. In the past year I had only had to worry about Legolas. Everyone else was just as loud and blundering as an Oliphant. But not this man. No, he was different.

I retreated to the citadel, where I almost crashed into Legolas and Gimli. "Did you talk to her?"

"I tried but I was put off. Does that count?"

"Did you go to the Houses?" Gimli asked.

I nodded and he appeared satisfied.

"What exactly happened?" asked Legolas, who appeared a little less willing to accept the fact that this counted as me talking to her.

"I went to the Houses, she was already talking with Faramir, so I waited until they were done, but their conversation ended with a fight and she was very upset, so she ran inside. Then when I went inside to find out where her room was, the woman told that she would get the Warden because for some reason the Warden needed to show me to her room. While I was waiting, Faramir came in and told me that I had to leave by sundown, which he later told me was not true…"

As I told the two my story, I realized how strange it was. It was like a conspiracy to keep me away from Eowyn. Maybe it was. Maybe the young lady I had met was Lai. But she had looked a little too young for Faramir, and he didn't seem like the person who would be in that sort of a relationship…

I then realized just how tired I was. I pushed passed my friends, who were bickering over who won since I had tried to talk to her but I had not actually spoken with her. The last thing I heard as I slipped into restless dreams was Gimli's voice ringing in my head saying _You bet twenty gold pieces that he wouldn't GO to her tonight… _

I woke up with a very different thought in my head._ In some way yet unexpected, Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir, would provide an obstacle for me and something I held dear. _The thought came over and over again, persistently until I was fully awake and realizing what I was thinking. Valar would I ever get my mind off of that man! Over and over again the thought came as I bathed and dressed. Every time I told my mind to shut up, and every time it only answered with: _In some way yet unexpected, Faramir, son of Denethor, brother of Boromir, would provide an obstacle for me and something I held dear._ I was rapidly becoming dizzy, and it was still early in the day. I felt as though I had drunk too much ale too quickly. What was happening to me?

I decided that maybe breakfast would help, so I went downstairs. At the last minute, I decided that I would visit Eowyn first. Perhaps it was still early enough that I could speak with her before I was detained by the plotting and sly Faramir. I was truly ill feeling by this point, and my mind was blowing things way out of proportion.

I walked to the Houses, suddenly wishing that I had grabbed some sort of breakfast after all, for by the time I reached the gates, I was ravenous. _Oh well, _I thought. _Done is done._

As I entered, I noticed that same girl again. She was washing hanging linen near the front door.

"Excuse me Miss…" I trailed off, groping for a name.

"Yes?"

"Erm…" she hadn't taken the hint. Or did she just not want to? "I'm looking for Lady Eowyn…"

She shook her head. "I'm sorry sir, I'm not sure I should let you in. She was very excited to learn that you were going to come, and then when you weren't there when we came back to get you…"

"I left because I was mislead by misinformation. Please, I beg you, allow me only a minute to look upon her face!" I was shocked by my own words, as I didn't really give an orc whether I saw her now or later, but I still thought that this was for the best. I couldn't keep fretting about Eowyn. I had to get my mind off of her and move on with everything I had to do. I didn't think that I would be able to unless I spoke to her and resolved this unspoken and delicate gap in my heart.

"Sir, what misinformation would that be?"

"That I could not leave after sundown."

The nurse giggled. "Well, sir, most people don't leave after sundown. It's true that we don't let anyone in unless they are healers, but we don't usually let anyone out either, because usually, they are patients without patience."

I smiled a little at her pun. "Look lady…what should I call you?"

"Just 'miss' is fine," she said.

'Fine, miss. Look miss, I beg you to let me in there. I need to talk to Eowyn. I cannot stop thinking about her and I need to resolve some problems. Please, let me in."

"Very well, but if you dissapoint her today and are fickle and gone when I come back, I won't let you in again."

"I swear that I will be true!" I declared, my head held high. Now that a question of my integrity was posed, I was very intense about the issue at hand.

She curtsied and left me alone in the front of the House. Almost instantly, a young nurse came up to me and said, "Why, what are you doing here?"

"I'm waiting to see someone."

She smiled in the way my mother used to when a situation appeared hopeless. "I'm sorry, no one is to enter the Houses today. We want the patients to rest so that they can have strength for the celebration tonight."

"What celebration?"

"The one announcing and welcoming the King and Queen to our city. Of course, the Queen will officially be crowned tomorrow. It is our tradition. We celebrate the Queen on the three eves before her crowning. She is always crowned separately from the King, even if they are already married. If the King is not married but has found his bride when he takes the throne, she should be crowned before married, to represent that she puts her country before her husband. The Lady will be crowned come elenya. Come, would you like to see where she is to be crowned?"

I shook my head. "No thank you."

"But sir, you cannot see her…"

Could it hurt? No, I decided. I had promised to stay here. I would stand true to my word.

_Unlike some._

I shook the nasty thought away, and shook my head. "Nay, I must wait, for I swore that I would. I will see it another time, lady."

She frowned, and thought hard, but nothing seemed to come to her. "Very well, milord. I shall see you tonight I hope."

"Good day, Lady."

She turned to go back inside, when I called out to her. "Excuse me, there is a young woman working here, she has black hair pulled into a plait around her head, and she was wearing a light blue dress. She also appears to be of Haradric desent…"

She smiled. "Lai, did you wish to see her?"

I smiled back. "Nay, I merely wanted to know her name."

"Well there you have it."

"Thank you lady."

She nodded and went inside. As she went inside, I saw Lai coming out. They exchanged some hushed words, and Lai seemed very upset about something. Perhaps that her conspiracy had failed. Well, there. I had passed the test. Lai frowned as she came up to me and said, "This way please."

She showed me to a door, and told me that Eowyn was ready to see me anytime. I nodded and thanked her, and then took a deep breath and knocked.

"Come in."

I was shocked how blunt her voice was. Had she not healed any since I left? Her heart was yet shattered, and I doubted for a moment if I was the one to heal it.

I banished the thought and glanced down at Lai. Then I pushed the door open to reveal Eowyn, sitting in her window seat. It looked out east, and I wondered what she looked for, as we were all here again. The Shadow was defeated. So why did she still look that way?

But I realized that she wasn't looking out. She was looking down at the gardens. She was wrapped in a lovely blue cloak that I was sure I had seen before. But where?

"Eowyn?"

She looked back at me and smiled warmly. "Aragorn. It has been so long, why did you not come sooner?"

"I came yesterday, but from what I can divine, a nurse here, Lai, tricked your friend into tricking me into leaving."

She smiled and rolled her eyes. "Alas, I cannot be angry at Lai, or even Faramir for long, for they are the only reasons that I held on to hope this long." She looked down at the cloak and stroked it's velvet length.

Where had I seen this image before? I couldn't place it.

Eowyn glanced down at the gardens again, and drew a sharp, though soft, intake of breath. I went over to her to see what was the matter.

Down in the gardens, was he. He who could ruin everything with a wave of his hand. And now he had worried my love.

I turned her face from the window and said, "Eowyn, do not look down there if it causes you pain. From now and here, I shall not have you suffer anything that it is less than perfect. I shall give everything you could possibly ask for to you. All you must do is come to me when you are in need."

She smiled. "Are you saying that you are perfect, milord?"

"Nay, hardly. But to make myself worthy of you, I shall try to perfect every flaw that I have ever possessed."

"But what about the ones you have already perfected?" she said, teasing.

I wondered at the change that had come in her, but I decided to play along. "Ah, but never have I felt the urge to perfect a flaw, so never have I. Now every flaw shall be perfected."

"Perfect as a flaw, or perfected as a trait?"

"What?"

"When you say that, it sounds as though you are going to make it a perfect flaw. Not a perfect trait. Are you going to have a row of perfect flaws, or do you mean that you shall rid yourself of such things all together?"

I realized then that perhaps Eowyn was smarter than I, and at least wittier. I wondered if this was a change that had occurred, or if I had just never seen this side of her. From where could this have come?

She was still grinning, waiting for my answer, but I didn't feel like playing.

"I shall rid myself of flaws."

"Including jealousy?"

"What?"

"You're jealous because I outsmarted you. Will you rid yourself of that flaw?"

"Of course, of course."

"Start now."

I looked into her eyes, and they were still kind, but they were not what I expected. She wanted me to laugh with her, but I couldn't. What was humorous about this? I also saw, rather than love, infatuation. I realized my terrible mistake. I couldn't satisfy her mind, and she couldn't satisfy my heart. What were we doing?

But suddenly she changed. Her eyes darkened, and her silly grin was replaced by a soft smile. She suddenly looked like everything that I had thought to find. I released my previous fear in a soft sigh.

She leaned forward, into me. I responded by leaning towards her. Our lips met, softly, but I noticed the lack of sweetness that Arwen had always brought into our kisses. Where was this? It was no longer there. Perhaps it was driven away with the love that we had had…

But no. I focused on Eowyn, refusing to doubt her. I knew that she was trying, just tired. But when I deepened our kiss, she pulled away. She looked down into the gardens, and said, "Lai wanted us to go for a walk today. I think I'll go and do that now. I'm sorry. I enjoyed our time together. Please, come again."

"Ah, but Eowyn, tonight you shall be released, for it is your celebration! I will let you rest or walk or do as you wish, but we shall both be free by tonight."

Her smile widened at the word "free," as I knew it would, but she still seemed restrained. Almost as though she couldn't be herself around me. Was this true? How could it be? We loved each other. We would always be there for each other to rest in each other's presences when we were tired of flying. Why could she not relax as she used to? Had she been so affected by the Black Breath that this is where she was left?

I remembered what I had said to her just before I had left her. I had told her that the Witch King had not stolen her wit. Yet, that was such a different wit. That wit was the one she used when she wanted something. A sort of Control Drama, one might say. Had this part of her always been there, and it was just now liberated, or perhaps I had been blind to it; or was this a new part of her, instilled by someone or something with which she had come into contact? In my mind, an answer rose unbidden, which I shoved away instantly. Any thought with his name was a thought that I fought. I will include the thought here, as it might provide enlightenment to the truth of Eowyn's situation, as I do not believe now that I was far—if at all—off base with the thought.

_Faramir has freed this part of her. It was always there, and Faramir was the only one who could draw it from her._

I refused then to think what I think now, for to think such a thing would mean that Faramir could do what I could not. I could be here for Eowyn when she was sad, but perhaps our relationship was not one to endure both the happy and the sad. Perhaps, in our sad times, we had not realized that happiness was an issue. We had thought that we would be happy to be comforted in our sorrow. We never realized that perhaps we never need be sad.

I gripped her hand in parting, and I kissed her cheek softly. I began to rise, but I was surprised by her quick, playful kiss on the lips.I blinked for a moment, before continuing to leave. I turned back to her at the door and said, "I'll be back here by the eleventh hour of the sun tonight to escort you to your celebration. I will ensure that something shall be found for you to wear before then. O Valar! I must find something to wear myself. It appears that I have my work cut out for me for the day."

She smiled. She was one of the few people who understood the fact that I had few formal clothes, as they were certainly not practical to carry along across many lands while chased by Orcs, Nazgul, Wizards, Dark Lords, and Elbereth knows what else.

I exited the building, and walked back up to the citadel, feeling much better about everything than before. I realized that my hunger had returned, so I ate. I then spoke to several people about ensuring that we could find something for Eowyn to wear, as she also did not have any nice clothes to wear. It would have been easier if we had had the time to have a dress made, but as it was we had to pick out a dress for her and let it fit as best as it would. The three women who had been charged with this duty had insisted that I come along, as they had only seen the Lady from a distance when she was on the walls, usually with Lord Faramir. I didn't know why, but this bothered me immensely.

The debate had gone on and on and I was very tired by the time we chose. I resolved then never to go shopping with women again.

One dress was a pale gold, which would have looked lovely on a dark haired Gondorian, but it would be too similar to Eowyn's golden hair.

White and green were instantly out, as she wore those colors on an everyday basis.

Black also would not do, as people would think that she was still mourning. Though I argued that she was, the ladies said that there was an appropriate time to mourn and the one's coronation celebration is not it.

Blue was a favorite of two of the women and myself, but the third reminded us of the blue cloak that Eowyn was sure to wear.

Lavender was almost settled on, and I'm still not sure why it was rejected ultimately.

Red, they said was too bright, and it wouldn't go with the cloak.

Finally, I mentioned the silver stars on the cloak and Eowyn's grey eyes, and they all turned to me and stared.

"Why didn't you mention that she had grey eyes to begin with?" the third, Rigloriwen, whose name was and seemingly the most sensible, asked incredulously.

I shrugged. "Didn't seem important."

She rolled her eyes. "What is the first thing that you notice about a beautiful woman?"

I shrugged again. "I don't know."

"If she knows how to accent them correctly, you notice her eyes. She brings her eyes out by reflecting them in her gown choice!"

"Oh, okay."

"Tell me," said another of the women, Iavas. "How did you know to mention that her eyes were grey?"

"I was just thinking of all the grey things that a grey or silver gown could coordinate with."

We settled on a misty grey dress that was almost white, and I was sure that Eowyn would like it. Silver embroidery and sapphires accented the dress, and I was shocked that we could find something so fitting to her cloak.

The women proceeded to select flowers for her hair, another subject on which I was completely lost. They picked out some tiny white flowers that reminded me of Simbelmynë, and I was sure that it would remind Eowyn of the same thing. The women then wrapped the items up and told me to deliver them to the houses of healing, to a girl named Lai. When I asked why Lai, they said that Lai had been caring for Eowyn for some time now, and the two had grown quite close.

As I turned to walk down the street, Rigloriwen stopped me. "Wait here for me. I must fetch something."

I waited for some time while the other two chatted beside me. Finally, Rigloriwen came running back down from the citadel. "Send this also, as a gift from the Ladies Rigloriwen, Iavas, and Uregien."

I took the packet in my hand, and thanked her. "But you do realize that you needn't give her gifts."

"If she is to be our Queen, then yes we do. Even if she wasn't our Queen, we would still give it, for she deserves it after the great deeds she has accomplished. Tell her that anytime she needs a friend—or more—the three of us will always be supportive of her. She as already won powerful allies."

I thanked her again and then delivered the three packages to Lai. She seemed pleased with them, though I don't know why as she could not see what was in them, and she told me that when Eowyn returned from the garden, which should be soon, she would help prepare her.

After those long and tiresome hours, I went back to find something to wear myself before sitting down and trying to work a little before I had to get ready.

_It's going to be a long, long day,_ I thought.

I was right. By the time I found myself at the Houses of Healing to escort Eowyn to the celebration, I was already exhausted. I had forgotten to eat lunch, and was now wondering why we had to wait so long to eat dinner. There was supposed to be a feast half way through the thirteenth hour of the sun, and that was still an hour and a half away.

Eowyn, however, truly did look stunning in her grey gown. I discovered that the gift from the ladies was a sapphire necklace and a moonstone headdress. She was radiant. I couldn't explain in my own words what she looked like, but Faramir once mentioned what he had thought of when he had seen her. He said that she was moon's refection in the deep blue sea. I found this description accurate to her appearance.

At the ball that proceeded, and would subsequently follow, the feast; Eowyn won over every heart. At one point, I noticed Faramir in a corner of the room, wearing a purplish blue tunic over a black shirt. He was watching the dancing, rather obscured, but he never joined in. at the feast, he took his appropriate place at the table, at my left, but he avoided any conversation with anyone. After the feast, he disappeared.

The dancing continued for several hours after we had eaten, but for most people it wasn't enough. Most of the guests moved outside at the end of the ball. I wasn't quite sure why they didn't just continue inside, though I suppose this was their chances to be more…liberated in their celebrating. They didn't have the courtly rules to which they had to adhere. Eowyn and I joined them, and it wasn't long before I noticed her disappearing among the crowd. She had been amazing all night. She never lost energy, and she had shown precisely the side of herself that everyone wanted to see. She was a good, happy, friendly, and strong queen. I knew that everyone would follow her willingly.

I began getting more tired than ever, so I decided to seek Eowyn out and inform her that I was going to retire. I looked for several minutes before I spotted her silhouette walking up the stairs to the wall. I decided not to disturb her, as she seemed pensive and melancholy. I didn't want to bother her when she wanted to think, so instead I asked one of the guards to watch and when Eowyn came down to go over and tell her that I had gone to bed. They consented, and I left.

After I had changed, I glanced out the window one last time, and noticed that Eowyn was no longer on the wall. I wondered where she was, but I knew it was pointless trying to pick her out among the crowd. I closed my eyes and yawned, before turning towards my bed.

_ Finally, rest after a long, long, long day._


	11. Part Eleven: Eowyn

Don't own the song, that belongs to Francis Cabrel…I think… Anyway, it's called "Je T'Aimais, Je T'Aime, et Je T'Aimerais." This is the translation… I think…

EllowynTinuviel: Thank you so much for sticking by this story, even when you are the only one. By the way, I reread Gondor High School this past week (gave me an excuse to be on fanfiction all day since no one is updating like they should), and I have to say again how awesome it was. You really did a great job. I also got it a lot better this time. The only problem I have with it is that Theodwyn and her sister never came back into the story. But now that I know that there's going to be a sequel… You've doomed yourself to write the sequel now, because you told you greatest fan that you were going to do so. Oh well. Your problem.

Someone to Catch My Tears

Part Eleven: Eowyn

I doubted myself from the moment that Aragorn walked through my door the first time that day. He sat with me, and we talked a little, but he seemed less interested in what I had to say and more interested in kissing me. Did he not think that I could function at his intellectual level? I ended up trying to prove myself to him, and failing miserably, at least, I thought so. He never said anything about my wit, just acted tired of my talking. I found myself thinking that it would never do if he was tired of my voice already, but I didn't dare say that. Instead, I became the meek lady that he seemed to prefer. I found that he was much more satisfied with this side of me, perhaps because it was the only one I had ever shown him. Ever I had been weak and womanly to him, even when I begged to ride into battle. I begged him, giving him the impression that he had the right to decide for me. He knew that I could fight, but he had never seen me with a blade in a true battle. Perhaps that was the problem. Perhaps he thought me a weak woman, even though it did not fit what he knew of me. It certainly fit what he had seen though.

When he came the second time, I was disappointed. I had tried so hard to impress him. Lai had helped me, though somewhat dejectedly. I had discovered that she was a brilliant child, the kind Faramir would like more than anything, but she could be very child-like sometimes when she set her mind to something. No, rather than child-like, we'll say single-minded. She didn't care about much else.

Anyway, when Aragorn came, he did not even mention that I looked nice. The least he could have done was smile at me, but he didn't even do that. I recognized that he was tired, but I still felt let down. Was this it? I thought. Did he only want me when _he_ needed me, and when I needed, or wanted, him it meant nothing? Of course, I knew that this relationship was based on need alone from the beginning. We weren't there for each other to play and have fun. We would just comfort each other when we needed to. But I doubted still. I had seen him when I had been upset and crying over what Faramir had said. He was watching me. Yet, he didn't go after me until a time after I had gone inside. And even then he didn't seek me out. He came in calmly, and followed instructions to leave, almost as if he didn't really want to be there. And I don't think that he did.

The celebration was mundane due to my melancholy thoughts of my fiancé. At one time, I tried to find Faramir, for I knew that he could comfort me, but he was nowhere to be found until the feast began. Suddenly, somehow, he appeared with the rest of the crowd, as though he had been there all along. I knew then that he had been avoiding me.

He continued to avoid my eyes all night, until one moment, after the feast, when I noticed him talking to a dark haired princess. He glanced my direction at the same moment, and we stared at each other for several seconds before the man I with whom I was dancing asked, "Did you want to dance with your brother? I did not mean to interfere…"

"What are you talking about?"

"Your brother, the man you're staring at…"

I glanced back over at Faramir, who was now making polite excuses to the princess and retreating to stand next to a giant tree—in case you are surprised by this, I was too, at first. Gondorians place trees at the edges of their ballrooms. Perhaps it was Faramir's idea, as he loves nature so, and he likes places to hide.

I noticed that now he was standing behind the tree so that most people didn't see him. In fact, anyone who had not seen him go there would not have noticed him.

I looked back to the lord, trying desperately to remember his name, and said with a laugh, "Nay, I do not wish to dance with my brother, thank you for your consideration, however." There. Let him think that Faramir was my brother. He was, in a way. He would comfort me when I needed comfort, and guide me when I needed guidance. That's what brothers were there for, isn't it? But Faramir was so much more than that. He would also laugh at my jokes, and then say something witty in return. He would tell me so much. I felt so stimulated when I was with him.

It was then that I wondered, was I in love with Faramir? He was so much more that Aragorn, how could I not be? This thought worried me, so I decided to think about it later. For now, I was going to try to politely excuse myself from any offers and talk to Faramir. I needed him now. And I didn't know why it was he whom I chose. Merry was here, Eomer was here, and I had been fighting with Faramir just yester-day. Why was I insisting on turning to him as my eyes burned with hidden tears threatening to spill?

Before I made it to him, however, the ball ended. My disappointment raged, but then I felt a gentle hand on my shoulder, I turned hoping that it was Faramir, but knowing that it wasn't. Aragorn smiled at me and said, "the celebrations continue outside, if you wish to join them."

I nodded, hoping that it would give me another chance to speak with Faramir. In the corridor outside the ballroom, I noticed Faramir walking the opposite way. Dejected I started to turn the other way when I heard someone shout, "Faramir, Faramir!" I turned back, and noticed Faramir bending to be at eye-level with the hobbit that hardly reached his waist. Faramir and Pippin spoke for a few moments, before Pippin, with the eagerness of a child, grabbed Faramir's big hand in his own and led him back to the crowd. Faramir sighed with a playful smile on his face. I suddenly wished that it was I holding his hand. It was I causing that smile one his face. It was I turning around and saying something to make him laugh outright. I also realized then that it could have been. I had had a chance yester-day. He had declared his love to me, and I had lied. I had lied when I told Merry that I loved Aragorn, I had lied when I told Eomer that I loved Aragorn, and I had lied when I had told Aragorn that I loved him. But more than all of this, I had lied when I had told Faramir. That was the worst lie. It was the worst thing that I had done. Now I wondered though, could I get it back?

I then turned back to where Aragorn stood, and realized that I had made a vow that I couldn't break. It would be so unfair to him. I also realized that I could love him in time. Aragorn was a wonderful man, but he didn't understand me. When he understood me, he would be better than Faramir.

Right?

I glanced back at Faramir as we were leaving the hall. He was watching me. For the second time that night, our eyes met and held. But this time, my true feelings realized, It was different for both of us. To make it worse, Faramir has to have all those damned talents in reading people's eyes. I think he understood then, so I turned back to Aragorn quickly, chattering happily about nothing to him. I looked back again, in the corner of my eyes so that no one could tell, and saw Pippin talking to Faramir, and Faramir seeming to listen but not listening. His eyes betrayed his pain. I focused back on Aragorn.

I did not see Faramir, though I looked, for another couple of hours afterward. But finally, as I was looking up to find the city clock, thinking that it was time that I turn in, I noticed a figure standing up on the wall. I looked at the clock. No, it was not at all too late.

I made my way as quickly as I could through the crowd to the stairs of the wall. I made my way up as silently as possible, hoping that my attempts at silence and the music drifting through the streets combined would prevent Faramir from hearing me approaching. I think that it worked, as he was softly singing when I reached him.

"The world regrets so much,

So many things that we promise.

Only one for which I am made.

I loved you, I love you and I will love you.

No matter what you do,

The love is everywhere that you look.

In the least recesses of space,

In the least dream where you are delayed.

The love, as if it rained…"

He turned to me, then, as though he knew that I was there all along. "How long have you been standing there?" he asked.

"Does it matter?" I asked back, just as softly.

He closed his eyes and sighed. "I don't suppose anything matters anymore, does it?"

"Why do you say that? We have defeated the East. Things should look up from now on."

"But do not think me crazy if I say that I preferred those days when we were still at war."

"You, Lord Faramir, Despiser of War?"

"Do you mock me?"

"Never."

"Then what did you hope to attain from this conversation?"

"You."

He opened his eyes, confused.

"I want you to not hate me. I want you to be there for me. I want…I want so much that I cannot have. Just give me some small part of what I need."

"And what is that?"

"You."

"I do not understand."

"Yes you do, Faramir, yes you do!" I started yelling and crying, knowing that no one but Faramir would hear me. "Stop making this so difficult! You understood so long ago! I was the one who didn't understand! Please, please. Please don't do this to me. I need you. I need you! Are you listening to me?"

He hesitated, tears in his eyes. He seemed caught between the choice to hold me, and defend me against my tears, and running. I knew that he didn't want me partially. He would accept to be friends, but after he knew that I loved him, he wouldn't be able to sort out what he could do and what he couldn't do. I had made it clear that I was not planning on leaving Aragorn, and it was making it difficult for him. For my beloved. It was so strange, yet one hundred percent natural to call him that.

"Eowyn…"

"Faramir, please. Don't fight this. We both know we need each other…"

"I can't…"

Tears began to fall again. "Faramir…" I begged.

"What do you want me to do, Eowyn? What is it that I can do? I can be a close friend to you, but how will we both bear that? It is impossible, Eowyn. You cannot have us both. You must choose. Perhaps, over time, something can change, but for now, you cannot be in love with both Aragorn and me…"

"Aragorn had both Arwen and me!" I interrupted.

"Either follow your heart or follow your mind, but you're at a crossroad. You cannot go on forever forestalling the choice that lies before you. Do you love me, Eowyn?"

He did not wait for my answer before he took off down the stairs and through the streets. I knelt on the stone wall for a few mere seconds before I took off after him. I didn't have a clue where I was going or why. This was ridiculous. I wasn't going to chase Faramir all over the city. I loved him, but I had already told him that I wasn't going to give up on Aragorn. It was too much. I raced down a flight off steps leading into the cellars of the citadel. Faramir was gone. There were several corridors extending from this one room, and I knew not which one to choose. I looked around for a moment, before I arbitrarily chose the third one. I ran down it as quickly as I could, and, for no reason at all, I ignored all the passages that split off until I reached a certain one. It was no different from the others, but I had a feeling that Faramir had gone down here. So I took the passage.

This one lead deeper into the citadel, and I was thoroughly turned around and lost when the path ended in several passages.

I suddenly remembered Faramir talking about this place. He called it the Labyrinth. He told me never to let anyone trick me into going down here. Many people came down here and never returned. Nobody knows what happened to most of them, because few people dare to enter the Labyrinth. He said that he had found a few such people, but only a few because he never dared go off the correct path. He did say that there was a way to get anywhere from there, but one had to navigate correctly. He also said that there were a few places to which this was the only way. Like a secret library. And I knew that it was there where I would find Faramir. But for now, I just wanted to find a way out. He had told me not to let anyone trick me into going down here, but I had. My first day out of the Houses, Faramir had lead me to the Labyrinth. I knew that he didn't know that I had followed him, and even if I had followed him he probably didn't think that I would have decided which path I would take, lest I got lost, and I had turned around.

I sat down and started to cry. I didn't dare cry too loud, knowing that there were other people there. I started to wonder if this was where they put prisoners whom they want to kill. I could swear I remembered Faramir mentioning something like that. I wondered if how far away the nearest murderer was, and how close by the furthest one was.

I wanted to scream so badly. I wanted to scream and let Faramir know I was there. Surely, if I screamed loud and long enough, He would hear me and be able to find me. Of course, I could be miles away from him. Who knew how big this place was? There were so many other options as to which way I could go, and I had randomly chosen this one. I wanted Faramir to come and make everything all right, and to tell me that there was nothing here that could harm me, and that I was safe with him. I wanted him to tell me that he loved me. I wanted him to hold me. I wanted so many things that were impossible to have.

Crouching in the dust, I started to cry even harder. I tried to muffle the noise that I was making, but it was becoming increasingly more difficult. I buried my face in my cloak, dragging in the scent, trying to calm myself.

_Faramir._

It was unmistakably his scent, though I wondered why it would smell like him since he surely never wore his mother's cloak. But I didn't care at the moment. I just wanted to find Faramir and get out of here. I wanted it so badly.

I heard footsteps, and I was sure that one of the murderers was approaching me now and was going to kill me. I spun every direction, searching for the source of the steps. I continued to cry, but I covered my mouth to prevent myself from actually making too much noise.

Suddenly, I found myself face to face with a young woman. I lost it.

I screamed.

The woman looked startled, and then just disappeared. I screamed again. I heard more footsteps, but they weren't the same, thank goodness.

I continued screaming until a hand came over my mouth and a voice whispered in my ear.

"Hush, it's all right. What happened, are you okay?"

I turned and buried my face into Faramir's chest. He helped me down onto the floor, and there he rocked me and whispered into my hair until we both became too exhausted.

For the first time, I did not fear that night. I was safe, and I knew it. I did not doubt that Faramir would protect me.

As I drifted off to sleep, I thought of the woman. She was beautiful, not much older than myself. She had long black hair coiled up in a knot on her head with beautiful curls tumbling out. Come to think of it, she looked rather like that princess with which Faramir had been talking earlier. She had been wearing a long white gown, a ball gown, and a deep blue cloak over her shoulders. It was a good thing too, as the Labyrinth was so cold. Her eyes were an almost familiar grey, but I couldn't place it. And for some reason, I felt that this woman wanted to help me.

I wondered about her, but then I put it off till the morn. Now, I would sleep happily in Faramir's arms, for perhaps the last time.


	12. Part Twelve: Faramir

EllowynTinuviel: The point about being a self-proclaimed greatest fan is that I'll never be disappointed. The only disappointment here is when you're not updating. I hope you enjoy the conclusion!

Alafroncha: I would have updated sooner, but I was stuck on some business that Eowyn wanted to have some say in the ending. I compromised by having her telling Faramir what she thought, but I wasn't very happy with the result, and Eowyn was far from satisfied. So, things didn't go as planned. Thank you for the review, it was really nice of you!

Okay, I guess that this goes out to the two people still reading this. THANK YOU FOR ALL YOUR SUPPORT! This chapter was again a little long by accident. I just kept writing, and writing, and writing…

Also, to coffee lovers. I have nothing against coffee. In fact, I like it more than tea. I hope that no one takes Faramir's reactions personally.

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Twelve: Faramir

It wasn't a dream. It was real. She was really there, and I really had her, if only for a moment. I had once sworn to myself that if I could just have her for a moment then that would be enough. I would be satisfied for the rest of my life. But I found that it wasn't enough. I couldn't let her go now. The previous night had been so strange, but it had ended in a way so indescribably perfect. Our time together wasn't passionate or romantic, we didn't even kiss, but I had her in my arms for a short time, and I was healing her pain. I didn't numb her, like Aragorn did; I cured her. And that was all I ever wanted. To really be with Eowyn and to help her.

But I knew how much I had to get done that day when I woke up, and as reluctant as I was to go, I knew that I had to.

I picked Eowyn up and carried her through the Labyrinth. Maybe someday I'd be able to show her through the Labyrinth. I wanted her to learn the secrets of Gondor, but I wanted to be the one to teach them to her. But, of course, Aragorn didn't know his way through the Labyrinth, and I was the only one who could teach him. At least I had some control over the situation, for Aragorn wouldn't learn until I was ready to teach him. At least he wouldn't show Eowyn through the Labyrinth. Only I could do that.

When I reached the door that lead outside, the door through which I had come last night, I set Eowyn down gently. I opened the door carefully, and peered outside. It wouldn't do to have the men seeing me carrying Eowyn through the city.

Dawn was just breaking. There were already city-folk and sentries outside, but I knew that most people within the citadel would be asleep for now. If I went through the citadel, I should be safe. The only problem was that I didn't know where to take Eowyn. I knew to which room she had been assigned, for I had done so myself, but I didn't know how to get into that room.

I then thought of my mother's keys. She had a key to almost every room in the citadel. There was a passage to my mother's room, though it was complicated and difficult to get through. I would check and see if there was a key on her ring.

Thinking about it, Eowyn should have those keys. Each woman throughout Gondor's history had passed it down to the next woman. None of the men knew about these keys until me. My mother told me about them because she thought that she could trust me not to tell anyone until there was a new stewardess. Then she knew that I would see to the fact that the new stewardess got the keys. But now that we had a Queen, I knew that she was the one who should have these keys.

I picked Eowyn up again and carefully picked my way through the passages and corridors. I focused on remembering the right way, but I also focused on hurrying. I had to ensure that Eowyn was in her room by the time the maids came in.

Finally, we reached my mother's room. Eowyn had not stirred a bit since I had woken up that morning. I set her down on my mother's bed, and rummaged through the top drawer of the dresser opposite of the bed. The late stewardess's room had not been touched since she had died, except when either my father or I came in here. I knew he came in here when he was feeling weak and tired. It was then when I avoided him the most. My father was a proud man and would not want his son seeing him in such distress.

But I came in here myself. Boromir told me that it was unhealthy, but I did it anyway. After Boromir died, I went to his room to. I had yet, however, to go to my father's room. I was too frightened of what ghosts my still haunt that desk where he always sat. I had never seen him not working. Well, perhaps I had, but I don't remember it. I was only five when my mother died. People told me that my father was much happier and free-spirited before. But after her death, he became as cold as her monument that stood in the city to remind people of her greatness. My father had always terrified me, though I knew that I deserved everything that he said. My father does not lie. He truly believed every word. He believed that I truly deserved everything that he ever did to me. And I knew, deep down, that I did. I didn't want to admit it. I wanted to think like Boromir, that my father was crazy, and I had suffered far more than was necessary. That I was a wonderful person and I shouldn't listen to what the steward said, but I knew that it was not true. I knew that I was as pathetic and worthless as he had ever said.

I found her keys, and searched the ring for one that might let me into Eowyn's room. I finally found one that opened all the doors on that corridor. I was about to pull it off of the ring in order to use it, but then I remembered that I ought to give these keys to Eowyn. So I took the whole ring.

Picking up Eowyn again, I let myself out of my mother's room, closing the door and hearing the lock click in place, I took off again towards Eowyn's rooms. I knew that the later it got the more chance there was of my being caught.

I had almost made it before I ran into the elf, Legolas. I realized when I saw him how disheveled I must have looked. He was as tidy as ever, if not more so, and I felt mortified in his presence over my own appearance.

To make matters worse, he looked me up and down, taking in Eowyn in my arms, the keys in my hand, and the fact that we both looked as though we had slept on a dusty floor, which of course we had.

"Good day, Legolas."

"Good day, Faramir." He was still examining me, trying to put the pieces together as to what had happened and how he felt about it.

"Do you mind my passing you, I have much of which I must take care," I said, as he was blocking my path.

"Oh, no, go ahead. In fact, I was headed that way myself; I will join you."

I became terrified. "Didn't…weren't…weren't you headed towards me when we met up?"

"Was I? Why yes, you're right. I get so turned around here. I cannot in the least remember how to get to the mess hall."

I knew that he was lying, and that he had not been planning on going to the mess hall, and that he had just changed his direction in order to continue walking with me, but there was no way that I could call him on it. Damned elf.

We walked in silence, though I knew that Legolas was watching me carefully. He was certainly beginning to pick up on what had taken place.

"Where did you come from when we came across one another?" he asked finally.

"Whatever do you mean? I had been walking down that corridor when we came across one another."

"And before that?"

"I was in another corridor."

"And before that?"

"My mother's room."

"Bedchamber?"

"Yes."

"How often do people go in there?"

"What do you mean?"

"Do the servants go in there frequently, or did your father command that they leave the room in peace?"

"The latter."

He nodded. So he thought that Eowyn and I had gone to my mother's room and slept. I knew it sounded wrong, but I also knew that what we had done was not so different. I felt awful now. But I also didn't feel in the least regretful. So I had gone against correct protocol. At least I had done so with Eowyn. I hadn't done anything. I hadn't violated her honor or my own. I had merely spent the night aiding a troubled person. I frankly couldn't care less about the consequences.

However, just because I couldn't care less didn't mean that I wanted there to be consequences.

When we reached Eowyn's room, the nicest of all the guest rooms; I had seen to that myself, I excused myself. "I'm sorry, I have some business in this room to take charge of. Perhaps I shall see you later today."

He nodded politely, and I used the key in my hand to let myself into Eowyn's room. Fortunately, I had made it that entire time without being asked what Eowyn was doing, asleep in my arms. Of course, Legolas had some speculations, but I hadn't had to answer any of them.

I lay Eowyn down on the bed, after removing her shoes and cloak, and covered her well with the bedspread. I also removed her jewelry and set it on the little table beside her bed. I didn't dare do aught else to make her comfortable, as what we had already done was rather inappropriate according to Gondor's etiquette. Perhaps in Rohan women were allowed to sleep with other men than their fiancés, even if nothing had happened, but in Gondor for two people of opposite genders, particularly if one of them was engaged or married, to sleep together was a close to crime. Actually, if one or both were married, it _was_ a crime punishable by exile. I wasn't sure about what the punishment was if one of them was merely engaged. _Perhaps_, I thought, _I should find out._

_This is crazy,_ I thought, as I let myself out of Eowyn's room. _I'm not going to look up what my punishment should be if I were caught._ Of course, I _had_ been caught, but I didn't think that Legolas would say anything, even to Gimli or Aragorn, who were the only people to whom he spoke for the most part. The elf was fairly aloof for the most part, though I had watched him while he was drunk or in a particularly good mood and he could also be quite amiable too.

I was about to head down the hall when I realized that I had forgotten to give Eowyn the keys to the citadel. I turned around and let myself back into her room.

I left a note on top of them saying what they were—I decided at the last minute not to sign for some reason, even though I knew that she'd know who I was—and I set them down next to the headdress and necklace.

It had been kind of Rigloriwen to give these things to Eowyn. I knew that she was one of the nicest people here along with her sister Iavas and their friend Uregien. The necklace had originally been made for the girls' mother, and she had passed it down to Iavas. It had always been very meaningful to her, and I knew that she had sacrificed it for Eowyn. Rigloriwen's headdress had also been a sacrifice, as it had once belonged to their other sister, Laira, who had always been precious to Rigloriwen. The two of them had been closer than any other sisters I had ever seen. Iavas was always second to Rigloriwen. Unfortunately, Laira had died when she was but sixteen from a plague.

I closed my eyes, again thinking upon all who had been lost. But so much had been gained too, this I knew.

But I doubted again as I made my way to the door for the second time. What had been gained? Gondor had gained peace, a King, a Queen. Hopefully she would continue to gain. Eowyn had gained a good husband, a place where she could belong and live out of fear, and a cage. I knew that I shouldn't think like that, but I knew that it was true. Aragorn had gained a devoted wife who would not leave him for anything it appeared, even true love; his destiny fulfilled; and a lie that would ruin him. The Elf Lady Arwen had gained freedom to do as she wished for once, instead of waiting around for Aragorn; and perhaps even love. Who knew? I had gained nothing. I didn't see how it could work out this way. Arwen had done what was best for her, as it was clear since she had gained good things for the most part, but it appeared that everyone else had made a mistake. Where had we gone wrong? Was it that Eowyn was not to be married to Aragorn, and instead she should marry me? But then what would Aragorn have gained? Would he not then be in the same predicament in which I found myself now? Surely!

As I closed the door to Eowyn's room, after making sure that it would lock correctly after me, I turned around only to be face to face with one of the object of my thoughts.

"Faramir? Is this where you live? I had thought that the steward of the realm would not be in the guest quarters, but rather in the Steward's wing," Aragorn said.

"Erm…Actually, Sire, I have yet to take up the Steward's chambers. I have not had an opportunity to do such." I hadn't lied to him, I had just not answered the question about where I did live at the moment.

"Do you mind me asking why?"

I became very uncomfortable. "I believe I just told you. I have not had an opportunity." This was not true. I could not bring myself to tell him the truth though. The truth was that I couldn't bear to go into those rooms after what I had suffered. As I mentioned before, I could not go in there out of fear. The memory of my father there, never pleased by what I had done, trying to teach me lesson after lesson. My entire body would ach with memory. I would remember the words he said. I would remember everything else that he had done. I would remember everything.

More than all of that, I would remember that I had deserved it. All of the pain, my heart aching, my body aching…

"Faramir?"

"I'm sorry, I was just thinking about my father. I wished that I could talk to him one last time…"

Aragorn nodded. "My father died when I was young. I was only two. My mother also died long ago, but I still grieve over her. Anytime that I find myself near her grave I go there. Every other time I wish that I could go there."

I nodded. "Then we both know how each other feels, for I too, grieve the death of my mother."

"Finduilas was a wonderful woman."

I looked up, my wonder showing through my eyes. "You knew her?"

He nodded. "She was like a sister to me. I had grown up with many brothers, not only my foster brothers but the many elves that befriended me despite my differences. But I never had a sister. I served here under your grandfather for a time, and I grew close to the family, most especially your father's wife. She was a kind lady with a big heart, much larger than I think that most people gave her credit for. Your father was jea…" He faltered, not wanted to insult my father in front of me.

"Go ahead and say it. I know that my father has faults. You needn't fear speaking freely about him in my presence, though you must understand that I might stand up for him if I think that what you have said is unfair. I will not shun your comments. I only warn you that it is not kind to speak ill of the dead. However, in this case, you have already nearly said it, so go ahead. You were telling my that my father was jealous."

Aragorn appeared startled, and I noticed something coming into his eye. It was not hard to read what he was thinking, as his guard was surprisingly low. He was thinking that I was going to come in between himself and something that he loved. I didn't know what this could mean, unless he was possibly thinking that I would come between him and Eowyn. I decided that now would be a good time to get as far away from Eowyn's room as possible, so I began walking, knowing from past experiences that Aragorn would follow me.

"What were you thinking, milord?"

"I was just thinking how different Eowyn is now."

I was surprised at this, as I knew that he was thinking about me but a moment before. Surely he did not know that I loved her?

"Milord, I know not how she has changed. What do you mean?"

"Faramir, I would like to ask you to cease this formality. We may not know each other well, but we will need to get to know each other sooner or later, as we will be working together. I believe that the best way to become friends is to drop the formality right away. No one calls their friends 'Milord,' and 'Sire.' Why don't you come and take breakfast in my office? We'll talk there." He smiled kindly at me.

"As you wish, S…Aragorn."

I could tell that he was wrestling with himself, but I did not know what the problem was. I focused on what he seemed to be thinking, and I realized that he didn't really want to befriend me. He would rather stay at a distance from me. He wanted to separate himself and those whom he loved from me forever. I knew that if I did not change his mind soon, I would be separated from Eowyn forever.

However, perhaps that was not a bad thing.

I followed Aragorn into his study, dwelling on my own sorrows. I noticed in the back of my mind how quickly everyone seemed to be adapting to these new lives. How was it so easy for Aragorn to settle into his new office after such a short time? I couldn't even go to my own father's bedroom still!

Aragorn smiled at me as he poured some tea. I wondered what kind it was, but I didn't focus on the thought hard enough to actually get it out.

He handed me the cup, and I did not even look at the contents. He sipped his own cup and asked, "What's bothering you, Faramir? You seem troubled."

I decided to take a sip from my tea before I answered, to give me a chance to recover my thoughts and find an appropriate thing to say. After all, it would hardly do to say, "oh, yes, I was just thinking about how in love I am with your betrothed. I hope you don't mind, but I think that she loves me back, and I'm hoping fervently that she breaks off her engagement to you before we all are doomed to a life of utter despair."

I gagged as the bitter taste rushed through my mouth. What sort of awful tea was this? It hardly tasted like tea.

"Faramir, are you all right?" Aragorn asked me.

I just choked in response.

"Have you never had coffee before? It's a specialty of the Haradrim. They just sent us some as a sign of peace. It's quite good, don't you think?"

I didn't bother to tell him what I thought of the coffee, I just looked pointedly at him.

"Ah, I see you don't like it. Well, you'll get used to it eventually."

"Don't you have any tea here?"

"I could ask for some, if you would like," he responded.

I wasn't sure how I liked this, as everyone had always been served tea before. I was quite happy with my tea, and I didn't like the idea that perhaps we would begin drinking this vile coffee drink. Of course it came from Harad. Nowhere else would be foolish enough to grow such a plant!

"You could add sugar to it, to sweeten it, if you'd like. Or milk, perhaps?"

I didn't bother telling him how much I disliked sugar, and that I never ate it if I could help it. Besides the honey that I used on occasion, I didn't attempt to sweeten any of my food or drink.

"Or not," he said, after I didn't respond. "Anyway, what is wrong? You are clearly not happy."

I thought for a moment about my answer, and then said simply, "I am very tired from last night, that's all. I had some stress during the party, and I really should have gone to bed early, but I didn't."

He nodded, understanding. He probably felt the same way. We sat for a short time, drinking our coffee—actually, he was drinking the coffee, I was just pretending to—in silence. Suddenly, he asked me "Aren't you wearing the same tunic that you wore last night, for the celebration? And why are you so dusty? I hope that you don't mind me asking. I know that the question wasn't very diplomatic of me, but I wanted to know."

So he had noticed. I wondered briefly how I was going to get out of answering this question, as there was no point in lying. "I…er…yes, this is the same tunic."

"And?"

"And what, Sire?"

The word did what I wanted it to. Aragorn became distracted by my over-formality. My brother always told me that I was too diplomatic for my own good. I could attain any end to any situation that I pleased, just by using my words. I had asked him sarcastically why I hadn't been sent to negotiate with Sauron, if I was so talented with my words, and he had told me that it was simply that father had not recognized my true value, and even if he had it would be too dangerous. I always assumed that he was lying, but I had always harbored the secret hope that maybe he was right. Maybe, just maybe.

"Faramir, I have asked you not to call me that, how many times must I ask you?"

"I'm sorry, Si…Aragorn, it is a hard habit to break." Lie. I could adapt myself to most verbal situations with complete ease. I didn't feel comfortable calling him by his name, but I didn't fail to do so because of a habit.

"Faramir, you've hardly had an opportunity for the habit to begin! How do you mean that you can't break the habit?"

"I don't customarily forget a person's station and call the person by their first name, 'tis all I meant."

Aragorn seemed exasperated, but almost willing to let the issue go, so I said to him, "I'm sorry Si…Aragorn. I have a lot of work to do. Thank you for the coffee."

He nodded and took the cup from me. I left quickly before he could comment on the still full cup.

I hurried to my room and washed and changed in order to avoid further embarrassment about my clothes. With any luck, everyone would forget about the entire incident, and everything would go as they were supposed to. I was now beginning to rather hope that I would be sent to Ithilien, so that I wouldn't have to live any longer under such stress. Aragorn couldn't stand me, that much I knew, and Eowyn was in love with me. I didn't think that I could handle knowing that this love was mutual and still see her married to Aragorn. I had decided that the absolutely best way to avoid everything was to ensure that I was dispatched to Ithilien as quickly—and for as long—as possible.

I then walked more sedately back to my own study, the same one that I had occupied for years. I lay my head on the desk to rest my brain for a second. I didn't know how much more of this I could take. I decided to devise a plan immediately to send myself off. I started looking through the papers on my desk, trying to come up with a strategy. There were many things needed in the forest, but none would keep me away for very long.

A servant came into my office an hour later, bearing a tray with two pots on it. "Milord, would you like tea or coffee?"

I sighed in exasperation at this new drink that Aragorn had so quickly incorporated into this house. I most assuredly had to escape.

"Tea, please."

I stayed in my study working—though I had the thought of being sent off in the back of my head for the entire time—until late afternoon. I had skipped lunch, but this was not out of the ordinary for me. I was surprised when I was summoned to Aragorn's office, telling me that we had to talk about some issues. I knew that there were several papers here that we would need to talk about, but I didn't expect to have to talk so soon. I hadn't thought that he would have even started getting to so many papers, seeing all the other things that he had to do.

I gathered up half of the papers that I knew we would have to discuss, as there were so many and I didn't honestly think that he could have even gotten through half of them yet. I had always been an efficient worker, and I knew that I would have gotten through much more than he had.

I knocked on his door, and heard a muffled, "come in!"

"I assume that you wished to talk about these papers?" I said, gesturing to the said papers.

He nodded, smiling. "Thank you Faramir. I've gotten through only a small amount, but I found that I really needed to talk to you about them immediately."

I found that he had managed to get through much more than I had expected, but still not even half way through, as I had predicted. He was drinking that dreadful coffee again, and I was relieved that he did not even make me decline. He knew by now that I wouldn't like it, I suppose.

We worked for several hours, before an idea came to me. I would make sure that I was sent to Ithilien to oversee the rebuilding of Minas Ithil. I had always wanted to play a hand in returning it to Gondor. Everyone had always assumed that returning it to Gondor had meant reclaiming it, but I meant making it part of Gondor. I wanted to make it as fair a city as Minas Anor, just as the moon was as fair as the sun.

I also wanted to redo Emyn Arnen, a city overrun with grief for being so near Mordor. I wanted to make all of Ithilien bright and fair again, and never see a tear shed there again except that of the rain clouds.

I did not mention this right away, however. I wanted to wait for the right time. Before I could say anything, however, I heard the door open behind me. I continued examining the treaty with the Haradrim, one of the most immediate documents that we had to deal with, as Aragorn looked over my head at the person behind me.

"Milady…" he breathed, and I heard footsteps behind me as the woman entered the room. As she came up behind me, I turned, and was shocked to see Eowyn there. I wasn't particularly surprised to see Eowyn, as it was entirely natural that a woman should want to visit her fiancé, but to see Eowyn ash she was, tears running freely down her face…

She was dressed in a fine gown, and she had a crown in her hand. I was aware that the seamstresses had wanted to try Eowyn's coronation clothes on today, and make whatever final adjustments had to be made. It had caused a great problem, her being in the Houses of Healing until just last night, but the Warden had refused to release her until absolutely necessary.

She threw the crown on the ground and cried, "I cannot do it Aragorn. Neither of us can. We both know that we don't love each other, so why are we doing this? I know what you're thinking. You're thinking that I'm abandoning you like Arwen did. That's why I haven't done this before. Because I thought the same thing. But someone else taught me differently…" (here Aragorn looked me directly in the face, and I wondered why he suspected me as I tried my best to look innocent) "and I realize now that I'm not doing the same thing. You don't love me Aragorn, and I'm not going to be dragged down by a loveless marriage. You don't want to be dragged down by such a marriage either, do you? You turned to me because there was nobody else. We both thought that maybe that's what love was supposed to be, when two people can be there for each other when nobody else can. But that's not true. You should want to spend time with me. If you truly loved me, you would want to be with me no matter what the occasion. And if I truly loved you, then I would want the same thing. But that's not the case, and we both know it. I was upset yesterday because of the way you treated me. Did I want to talk to you? No. If I had, things would have been different. But I'm sorry, I know now that I don't love you, and that you don't love me. We both know deep down how true this is. Don't make this harder than you have to, please Aragorn."

We were both stunned by such a speech. I looked for some sort of reaction on his face, but he didn't seem to have one. But slowly, after the shock wore off, I saw pain. He was hurt by what she had said. But deep in his heart, where few others could see, I saw relief. Mountains of it. He did not regret her breaking off the engagement at all. I don't think that even he realized this, but I think that deep down he knew that he had just escaped something horrible, just like we all did. He knew that he would manage now to find true love, one that wouldn't need to desert him. He would find someone who could follow him on those wild adventures of his, for I was sure that Aragorn's ranger days were not over, even though he was now king. Even if he never went into the wilds again, his adventurous mind would be a force to exasperate any woman or man. But he would find somebody to make him happy, because he knew, deep down, of course, not on the surface, that Eowyn was not the one for him. He knew that he did not enjoy her company like I did. He knew this, and he was glad that he didn't have to worry about it any more.

But this was all deep down. On the surface, he still believed that he loved Eowyn. "No, that's not true…I do love you. You cannot do this to me…"

She grabbed his hand and shoved something into it. "Do you still love me, Aragorn? Can you bear to look at that thing? It's painful isn't it? Do you remember how she kissed you? Do you remember how I kissed you? They were so different, weren't they? Don't you recognize what that difference was?" He stared at the pendant that she had thrust into his hand, his mouth agape and his eyes wide in horror. She raised her head, satisfied, and left the room. Aragorn looked at me.

"Do you have any idea what that was all about?" he asked me.

"No, milord, but if you will excuse me, I must speak with someone immediately," I said. I had to get to her…

I hurried out of the room, hoping that she would still be there. I spotted her further down the hall. She was walking swiftly, but hesitating with each step as though she hoped that someone would follow. Did she want me to follow, or was it someone else?

I hurried after her, careful to mute my footsteps. I had never been a heavy walker, and when I became a ranger I had ceased to make hardly any noise even when I was not paying attention. When I was conscious of my footfall, I was even quieter. Few would ever pick up on my steps.

I finally caught up to her as she entered one of the most beautiful of all of Minas Tirith's gardens. It was also the most special. It was the one thing that I loved about my own study: that it looked over these gardens. My father's study did too, but my brother's did not. His was assuredly the nicest study in the entire citadel, besides the one reserved for the king, but I didn't mind. It was one of the few times that I was happy that my father thought me lesser than Boromir. For my study was the one that overlooked my mother's gardens.

I watched as Eowyn caught her breath, staring at the lovely flowers that my mother had planted. I remembered running here, as a little boy. My brother had been chasing me, and my mother was sitting on that little stone bench that sat next to Eowyn at this moment. I remembered looking up at my father's office, and seeing him in there. I waved energetically at him, and he waved back, laughing as Boromir finally grabbed me and picked me up, swinging me around. For a nine-year-old, my brother had been surprisingly strong. He had managed to lift my father's sword, one of the heaviest in the citadel, by the time he was only eleven.

But it wasn't long after that when my mother stopped coming out to the garden. She became tired all of the time, and she began to waste away. She started looking out east, instead of west, where her home lay. And as she died, so did her flowers.

When she went to the Halls of Mandos, my father gave up all hope. He came upon me one time, tending Mother's flowers, and yelled at me to never enter this garden again. The flowers began to die again. I was sad, and wished that I could go to wherever Mother was. I knew that she wouldn't be living in a place where people were denied the right to garden because someone's wife had died. I stopped eating and sleeping. Being only six at the time, I didn't realize exactly what was happening to me. All I knew was that my mother had become so weak that she couldn't even stand just before she was taken from me, and I was slowly reaching that point myself. Boromir was visiting our uncle at the time, and my father was too busy to even notice. When Boromir returned, he scolded me for being so negligent of my health, and ensured that I was eating and sleeping again. But I wasn't happy until my brother procured permission for me to care for my mother's flowers again. It became a great joy of mine. I had a short list of things that I was happy doing. Sleeping, reading, writing poetry, spending time with my brother, gardening, and day-dreaming. My father was unhappy with this list, and showed it at every opportunity that he had when Boromir wasn't there to stop him.

I shook my head to clear it of memories that were getting increasingly worse. It was now time to deal with what was at hand, not what had passed and was gone forever now.

"Eowyn, what led you to break off your engagement to Aragorn?" I asked softly. I really didn't want to interrupt her thoughts, but I had to know.

She turned to me, smiling. "I didn't think that you had followed me. I knew that you would, but I never heard you."

"But you knew I would, why did you doubt that I was here?"

She just smiled at me and approached me. I led her over to the stone bench, and again remembered my mother sitting here. I imagined sitting here with Eowyn, like my father had done so many times with my mother, and watching a little boy running through the gardens.

"What led me to that decision? You, of course."

"Me?"

"Yes, I was thinking about you all morning. I was thinking about how you came and took care of me, and how I didn't want anyone else to take care of me. I was thinking about some of the things that I thought last night. I had been thinking about how you were like a brother to me, but then I realized how much more you were to me. I realized that all of those thoughts that I had had of you being like a brother also applied to Aragorn. It was the other things that you were that didn't apply. I thought of everything that you've done for me, and I knew that there was no way that I could go through with this."

"You've done some spectacular things for me."

"Like what?" She asked, smiled up at me.

"Like making my life worth living. Everything that I cared about was gone, and I never got a chance to say goodbye to any of them. My mother died in the night. She had suddenly started getting better that day, so I didn't think anything of her death that night when I left her side. Suddenly, I was being shaken awake by my brother, and he told me that she was gone forever. Then, my brother promised me, no matter what, that he would survive the journey. He forbade me to think any negative thoughts. 'No what-ifs.' He said. He I didn't get to say a final goodbye to him either. He was too confident in his return. And then, my father…the one person that I ever wanted to please, when I learned that he was gone too…"

"Hush, they all know that you love them, and they all love you in return."

"But Eowyn, don't you see, it should have been me each of those times." I said the words before I could stop myself. I didn't mean to, but I said them. I remembered when I had said a similar thing to my father about my brother, and he had confirmed it. My father had told me that I should have died rather than Boromir, and I knew that if Eowyn didn't say the same that she would be lying.

"Now, that's not true. You should have died instead of all of them? Why do you say that?"

"Because they were all worth something, and I was not," I responded quietly.

"Wait one second, are you saying that I have such poor judgment that I cannot tell who is worth something and who is not? I will remind you that it was _you_, not your mother, father, or brother, whom I fell in love with."

I chuckled at the thought of Eowyn loving…well, any of them, but particularly my father. I put my arm around her shoulders and whispered in her ear, "thank you."

"For what?" she asked.

"I thought I already told you. For making my life worth something."

"Your life was worth everything from the day you were born," she whispered back.

I smiled at her. "I don't know how you know that, or why you say it, but thank you."

"Oh, I'm not just saying things, I know. Your mother told me."

"What!" I nearly jumped off of the bench with shock.

"I saw your mother last night, Faramir. That's the reason I screamed. I was so startled. She was a beautiful woman."

I remembered that image of her sitting on the bench, much like Eowyn was sitting now. "Yes, she was."

"She came to me so that we could be together. She wanted you to be happy, because you were worth it to her."

I smiled at her. "Maybe you're right.

"I _am_ right."

I kissed her.


	13. Part Thirteen: Epilogue

Here we are folks. The final chapter. This is not an evil epilogue like the one for DTA. Just letting you know what happened. Also, if the little break doesn't show up before the last bit, there is supposed to be some sort of break there. SORRY!

I can't believe that this is over. Thank you to all my faithful readers who didn't review, and thank you even more to all the faithful readers who did review. You've all been very supportive of this story. I'm glad people enjoyed it.

Someone To Catch My Tears

Part Thirteen: Epilogue

Now here we are, three years later. It was all Eowyn and Aragorn's idea, to write down our story. I'm not sure why we did it, but we all thought that it was a good idea. It would help us all understand each other, and it would help others understand us. Eowyn laughs at me when I mention this, but I am sure that someone else will read this some day.

I suppose that you know who is writing this closing statement to this story by now—though it should have been obvious from the beginning, who would be charged with the job of writing down the end while everyone else sits and chatters? I'll give you one guess—But I think that the important thing about this chapter, should you call it that, is telling whatever readers may be reading this what this story is. It is the story of Eowyn, Aragorn, Arwen, and myself, and how the preceding events have changed us forever, for good or bad.

The other important thing about these last pages, it mentioning what happened after the story. This I shall proceed to do.

Eowyn and I spoke to Aragorn about our situation. I knew that he was pained about what Eowyn had done, but both she and I knew that he would see the good of what had come to pass very soon.

We got married, and three years later decided to write our story down. Now, we are all sitting in the library of Emyn Arnen, which, by the way, I did get to rebuild, and looking back on all that has come to pass.

Arwen is here, and I must say that I cannot blame Aragorn for loving her, for she is truly the second most lovely creature I have ever seen in my life. When Aragorn asked her, she mentioned that she has a very close friend, but she is not sure if it should or will develop into anything else. I was disappointed that this friend of hers did not come along, but she said that he had insisted on waiting at the Havens for when she was ready to return.

Aragorn is here too, and though she wasn't allowed to be involved in the writing of the story, his dear "friend" is here at the conclusion. Her name is Kulta, and some readers of this story may notice that the name is the same as one mentioned elsewhere in this story, by Eowyn. Aragorn is now sitting on a couch laughing, with his arm around Kulta. They insist that they are not interested in each other, but most of us have our doubts. My dear reader may notice a bit of messy handwriting in the last sentence, and I assure you that I am not drunk. It is simply that Aragorn just now picked up that I was writing about him, and he was not at all happy about what I had written. I do apologize. Anyway, the story of Aragorn and Kulta is a different story. Perhaps they will write it down some day, but it is not to be told here. Though I will mention that Eowyn has handed over the keys to the citadel to Kulta, so I am not the only one who thinks that there is something more than friendship there.

Eowyn, of course, is here. She is sitting next to me. Up to a point, I think that it was when I said that I was sure that someone would read this some day, Eowyn had been reading every single word over my shoulder. Now she is being as oblivious to what I'm writing as everyone else. Aragorn is at the current moment teasing her—and me—about her growing stomach. He is asking her what she shall name the child, and she is snapping back that it depends on if it is a girl or a boy. Personally, I want to name her Lai, should she be a girl, and Boromir, should she be a boy, but I have not mentioned these names to Eowyn yet, and I don't know exactly how she is going to take to them.

I am, obviously, here as well. I must say that the past three years that I have spent with my beloved Eowyn have been the best three years of my life. I cannot wait for each new day to dawn, for each one brings a new special memory for me to store away forever. I cannot describe how happy I am, knowing that Eowyn is by my side forever.

Much has happened in the last three years, but all of those tales can be and are told elsewhere. For now, I think that I shall happily close this book now, knowing that the last page has been filled, of this story, and perhaps some other story shall pick up from it.

_The world regrets so much, _

_So many things which one promises._

_Only one for which I am made. _

_I loved you, I love you and I will love you. _

_No matter what you do, _

_The love is everywhere where you look. _

_In the least recesses of space,_

_ In the least dream where you are delayed. _

_The love, as if it rained…_


End file.
